Blood Symbol
by Alatariel1990
Summary: With her drug-addicted mother in jail, Alex Swan has to go live with her uncle in Forks for two months. Mysterious killings are shocking the town. Alex investigates and is sure it's the work of a werewolf. At least until she meets a real werewolf.
1. Arrival

**Okay, so this is my first Twilight story. I have to admit, I never actually finished reading all the books, only the first three. Romance isn't really my genre and I only started because I wanted to know what the hype is all about (I do know the plot of the fourth book well though, thanks to Wikipedia). But Stephenie Meyer created a good world for fanfictions and that is something I can appreciate.**

**Alright, some facts you need to know when reading my story: Obviously, there was no imprint on Renesmee. Despite the fact that I don't much like the imprint idea, imprinting on a baby is just wrong no matter how you explain it. I'm also not a big fan of Edward and Bella and, while I don't believe in bashing, there is a good chance they might not come out looking the best.**

**This story actually came to my mind when I downloaded one of my favorite vampire series: Blood Ties, which was based on the Blood Books of Tanya Huff (that I've also read and loved). What can possibly be better than to put together a vampire and a former-homicide-detective-gone-PI? Absolutely brilliant! Unfortunately the show was cancelled after twenty-two episodes and five books (plus a short story collection). So consider this as something of a tribute to the Blood series.**

**I do not own the rights to either the Twilight series nor the Blood series, so if you recognize anything, it's obviously not mine and I don't make any money with it. Unfortunately.**

**Okay, enough from my side, just wanted to have that out in the open and I hope you can enjoy it anyway. Leave some reviews please.**

**Chapter 01: Arrival**

Charlie checked his clock for the third time since he'd arrived at the crime scene. He should have been on the road five minutes ago. If he was lucky her flight had been delayed.

"You think it might have been another animal attack?" Charlie looked up at Dave Connery, one of Charlie's deputies and a long-time friend.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. The coroner just finished zipping up the black body bag, but Charlie could still see the mangled body in his mind's eye as if it were still lying there openly on the parking lot. The boy, Aaron Fletcher, had been a High School student in his senior year. Charlie knew his parents. The thought of having to tell them that their son was dead was nauseating.

From what they could tell Aaron had been attacked last night after closing hours (naturally there were no witnesses) and whatever or whoever it was that had attacked him had practically torn out his throat and bled him dry. The blood, however, was gone, with the exception of a blood spatter arced across the dirty asphalt, feathering out from a thick red stream to a delicate pattern of crimson droplets.

The boy's eyes were wide open and his face contorted into a mask of pure terror. Charlie didn't think that he would ever forget that expression again for as long as he lived.

"It could have been an animal. There are a few similarities between this death, Karen Higgins's and the ones from last year," Charlie said, reflecting on the series of _'bear killings'_ that had occurred frequently between September and April. Now, nearly an entire year later, there was another attack and at first Charlie had been certain it was the same… _thing_… that had killed all those hikers, but there were also differences in the cases he couldn't seem to get passed. The attacks from last year had all happened in the forest, far away from human settlements. This one had happened right in Forks, between the _Golden Gate_ restaurant and _Leppell's Flowers and Gifts_, just off the main highway. Something about the neck wound, the horrified expression, also just didn't seem to add up right. He'd have to talk with Billy and Jacob. Maybe they knew more about this.

"Why don't you go? We can wrap this up without you, Chief," Dave said. Charlie hadn't even noticed that he'd checked his clock a fourth time.

"Thanks, Dave. I'm already late." With that Charlie got into his cruiser and made his way to the airport in Port Angeles. The closer he came the more nervous he became.

After Bella had married he hadn't expected to have another teenager in the house, though Bella had never been a very ordinary teen. Then, five days ago, he received a call from Social Services in Detroit. Charlie's sister, Miranda, who he hadn't seen in at least fourteen years, had been arrested for drug abuse. The word '_again_' had fallen, too. Tomorrow she had to begin her two-month sentence of imprisonment. And Charlie had been contacted to take care of Miranda's sixteen-year old daughter, Alexandra. He had no idea what was coming his way. At least when Bella had come to live with him Renee had been able to tell him what to expect.

Once the plane finally landed Alex sighed with relief. The worst part of the trip was over. At least she wouldn't have to get on another plane for the next two months. At least Alex hoped so.

She threw one last look out the window but could only see her own reflection. A wild mane of light golden blond curls fell down just inches past her shoulders. Her eyes were gray, framed by long, thick, black lashes. Alex was sure she'd gotten her eyes from the father she'd never met, because no one in her mother's family had eyes like Alex. Her skin was also naturally a few nuances darker than was common in the Swan family, who had rather pallid complexions. She was tall for a girl at five foot ten with a slender, athletic build and long legs.

She met up with Charlie after getting her two suitcases, filled with nearly everything she owned. Alex recognized him from an old picture her mother used to have in her bedroom. There was very little resemblance between Charlie and Miranda. Miranda was blond and very tall as well. Pictures showed that she'd once had her daughter's build as well. Charlie, though not small, was fairly average for a man, only a few inches taller than Alex. He had a mustache and curly brown hair. The only thing Charlie did have in common with her mother was the chocolate brown eye color.

"How was your flight, Alex?" he asked as he packed her luggage into the trunk of his police cruiser. Somehow she always seemed to end in police cars.

"As far as flying goes I guess it wasn't bad."

Charlie chuckled. "Yeah, I don't much enjoy flying either."

The drive was pretty uneventful. Charlie wasn't a big talker so they remained silent for most of the drive. That gave Alex time to have a look at her new surroundings. Nearly the whole area was covered in forest. And everything was green. She had to admit that it was actually quite beautiful. She was looking forward to exploring the forest on her afternoon runs. February in Detroit had been very wet and cloudy this year so the dark sky overhead really wasn't so big a change. At least in Detroit the sky would be blue again by the time she returned.

"I moved my shifts around a little so I can bring you to school in the mornings," Charlie said as they drove into Forks. It really was a tiny town. She rolled down the window as Charlie drove down the highway. The air here was much cleaner than in Detroit and she took a deep breath of it, filling her lungs to capacity.

"You don't have to drive me, I can walk," she replied, trying to memorize the locations of places she might need to go to while staying here; a diner, a grocery store, a pharmacist and it never hurt to know where the hospital was (not that she planned on needing it).

"I want to drive you. Besides, it's two miles to school."

"I'll manage," Alex said calmly. Two miles were a bit far, but she was sure she could handle it. It wouldn't take her more than forty minutes on foot, less if she ran.

"Well, you might have to sometimes in the afternoons. Sue volunteered to pick you up when she can, but she might not always be able to," Charlie said, pulling up to the brick driveway in front of his small, two-bedroom house.

"Sue?"

"Sue Clearwater. She's… a friend." Alex caught the slight hesitation. So she was _that_ sort of friend. "You'll meet her tomorrow night. She and her kids are coming over for dinner."

"Sounds great," Alex just said.

Charlie led her into the house and up the stairs, past a tiny bathroom that they would have to share and into a small bedroom at the west side of the house, facing out over the front yard. It had a wooden floor, light blue walls that she personally found a little cold, a peaked ceiling, a bed, a desk, an old pine dresser and an old rocking chair. It was clearly Bella's old room.

"It's not big, but it should do for the time you're here," Charlie said.

"It's fine." Alex decided not to tell him that she was used to sleeping on the couch of a smelly, run-down, two-room apartment barely larger than his living room. This was definitely a step up. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in a bed and she was pretty certain she'd never had a room of her own before.

"I'll leave you to unpack then." He left the room a little awkwardly. Alex didn't know if it made much sense to fill the dresser with her clothes only to pack them up again in two months. Then again, two months were a long time to live out of the suitcase. Deciding to just go with it she packed her clothes into the dresser. Bella had left some of her old stuff that she wouldn't need any more with her rich-ass husband. The pants would definitely be too short, but some of the longer shirts and sweaters might fit. She'd have to sort through them later on.

Charlie had made some space in the bathroom for her to store her appliances in. Sharing the bathroom would be alright. She'd shared bathrooms with families of four and more, or ten to fifteen children of varying ages in the orphanages and foster homes they'd sent her to when her mother had one of her break-downs.

Once she was done unpacking, Alex went downstairs again, inspecting the kitchen, yard and living room. The family room had a small fire place above which was a sequence of her cousin as she grew older and Charlie's wedding photo. She took the most resent-looking picture of Bella down from the mantle to inspect it more closely. Her cousin was wrapped around an unusually pale looking boy, no doubt that Edward Cullen she'd married. She supposed there was something very handsome about him, but he wasn't her type. He was too poised and elegant for her taste. Too perfect.

"Alex! Dinner's ready!" Charlie shouted. She went into the kitchen where Charlie was sitting by the old, square oak table on one of three miss-matched chairs.

There was a plate on the table for her with a huge portion of chicken casserole, more than she was likely to eat. She sat down and took a few bites.

"This is good, thanks," she said.

"You don't have to thank me, I didn't make it. Sue cooked it and brought it over this morning. But I'm pretty good with the microwave," he replied, grinning. Alex chuckled.

"_Do_ you cook?" She wouldn't mind doing the cooking, though she really didn't like standing in the kitchen. She guessed since he allowed her to live here she should do some work in return.

"Not unless you sign a claim that I can't be held responsible for any bodily harm you might suffer when eating my cooking." Alex had to laugh again. Charlie seemed to be a pretty great guy. Maybe this would turn out to be a rather nice stay.

The next day was a Sunday so Alex could sleep in and recuperate from the trip. The day passed calmly. In the afternoon she went for her parkour run for about an hour, taking a forest path. It was drizzling, but she didn't care. She ran in every weather short of Blizzards (and probably tornadoes, but luckily she'd never had to deal with that). After her run she spent another hour on her exercises.

Once she was done with her work-out Alex sat down with Charlie, watching some College football. The Washington Huskies were playing and Charlie was cheering them on loudly. She cheered along in solidarity, but Alex was a dedicated Michigan Wolverines fan. Charlie agreed to a pact that they would cheer along for both their teams and when the teams should play against each other the loser would pay for lunch at the diner. Charlie didn't much like the idea of having to cheer for the Wolverines, but he seemed pleased that they had a shared interest. Bella, he told Alex, wasn't all too keen about sports of any sort.

They didn't even notice the passing time as they argued about the best teams and players so when the doorbell rang both jumped a foot in the air.

"It's seven already?" Charlie asked startled, checking the clock above the television. It was. "Well, I guess we'll have to postpone the conclusion," he said. Turning towards the door he mumbled, "Washington wins anyway."

"I heard that!" Snickering, Alex followed him to the front door.

"Hello Charlie," a woman greeted when he opened the door. She was very pretty, with raven-black hair, dark brown eyes and copper skin. She must have been from the reservation.

"Hello Sue. Hey Seth. Dear God boy, you get bigger and bigger each time I see you." A boy walked into the house or at least she thought it was a boy. His features were still round like a child's and his build was rather gangly. But he was very tall. Alex wasn't accustomed to having to crane her neck so much to look someone in the face. Was he a basketball player or something?

"You must be Alexandra," Sue said, pulling her into a tight hug. For a moment Alex was too surprised to react. Once she got over the initial shock she returned the embrace a little awkwardly.

"Just Alex. It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Clearwater."

"Please call me Sue."

"Then it's nice to meet you, Sue." Alex turned to the boy, who was smiling at her brightly. She'd rarely met anyone with such a radiantly happy presence. His smile really did seem to light up the room and she immediately liked him. Alex guessed that it was near to impossible for anyone to dislike Seth Clearwater.

"Where's Leah?" Charlie asked as they went into the living room.

"Oh, she still had to… uh… take care of something. She'll come by a little later," Seth answered, sitting down beside his mother on the couch.

They talked for about an hour before Sue made her way into the kitchen to work on dinner. Alex thought it was rather odd that Charlie would invite her over only to have her do the cooking, but then Seth explained that his mother always cooked for Charlie and sometime they'd just tag along. So this wasn't so much a dinner invitation as it was a routine.

When the doorbell rang again Alex jumped up. "I'll get it." When she opened the door a young woman stood on the other side. Her black hair was cropped short and wet from the rain outside. "You must be Leah."

"Yes and you're Alexandra?" She looked Alex up and down, apparently sizing her up.

"Alex," she corrected, letting her eyes travel over Leah herself. Leah was taller than her, which was as surprising as the giant fourteen-year old in the living room. She was very beautiful with her soft-looking copper skin and the thick eye lashes surrounding her dark brown eyes.

"You don't look at all the way I pictured you," Leah suddenly said.

"How did you picture me?"

"Bella II," she answered flatly, her eyes darting over Alex's curls.

"Sorry to disappoint." Alex wasn't quite certain yet if not looking like her cousin was a good or a bad thing.

"Oh, _I'm_ not disappointed," Leah said, grinning slightly. The way she'd said that sounded as if someone else was or would be.

The evening with the Clearwaters turned out great. After some hesitation at first Alex even got along well with Leah. Apparently not being like her cousin was a good thing from Leah's point of view.

As she lay in bed her stomach made a bit of a turn as she thought about having to go to school tomorrow. She'd hoped that Sue's children might go to Forks High School, but Leah was already done with school and was currently attending classes at the Peninsula College in Port Angeles and Seth went to the school in La Push.

It wasn't the first time she'd been forced to switch schools for a while, but it was the first time that she'd go to a school that small. She didn't know what to expect. In the huge public schools in Detroit a new student just disappeared in the crowd, but in a town like Forks everyone knew everyone.

It took Alex a long time to fall asleep that night…


	2. Suspicions

**Chapter 02: Suspicions**

"Alright, Sue will pick you up after school." Charlie said as he pulled up to the school in his cruiser. Alex supposed this was the point where she should be glad that everyone knew everyone here in Forks otherwise it would have been extremely embarrassing to be brought to school in a police car.

"Yeah, that's fine. See you tonight." She got out of the car and walked towards the collection of matching, maroon-brick houses. She had to admit to herself that she liked this school. It didn't have that institutional feel to it and there were no chain-link fences or metal detectors anywhere. She entered the first house, which had a sign over the door reading 'Front Office'. The small office was fairly typical; with a waiting area with padded folding chairs, an orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, plants in plastic pots and a loudly ticking clock.

Alex walked up to the counter that split the office in two, overflowing with wire baskets filled with papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter. A large, red-haired woman sat at one of the desks, looking up when Alex cleared her throat.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, eyeing Alex's tight, holey jeans and black leather jacket with a disapprovingly raised eyebrow.

"I'm Alex Swan." That was all she had to say as realization hit the woman. She'd obviously been expected.

"Of course. Wait a moment." She began filing through a stack of documents on her desk, and then pulled out some sheets. "Here's your schedule, a map and a slip that you have to have signed by every teacher and bring back here after school."

"Thank you. Do you have a list of extra activities? Sports?"

"Of course, dear." The woman – Mrs. Cope was what the name plate on her desk said – handed her a bright yellow flyer. Alex scanned it quickly. Next to football, basketball, track, cross country, wrestling, baseball and cheerleading, the school also had volleyball and soccer, though soccer was split into a team for boys and one for girls. She'd played volleyball and soccer at her school in Detroit (she'd looked into girls' basketball, too, because of her height, but she hadn't stayed with that long), so maybe they wouldn't mind having her on the team, despite her leaving again in two months.

Her heart started accelerating. How much did everyone know about the circumstances why she was here? She didn't really want everyone to know that her mother was in jail for drug abuse. Again.

With a deep breath she left the office and made her way to building three where she'd have her first period of English. Alex didn't much like the subject. She liked reading crime, thriller and adventure novels. She liked John Grisham, Dan Brown, Michael Crichton, Simon Beckett, Karin Slaughter, Clive Cussler, Tess Gerritsen and Thomas Harris to name a few of her favorite authors. Brontё, Shakespeare, Chaucer and Faulkner just didn't quite make her list.

She hung up her jacket like the other students, noticing that she had a darker complexion than most people here. Alex didn't much like the idea of having to hang up her coat. Where she came from you kept your stuff close by and in eyesight or risked never seeing it again.

Mr. Mason scrutinized her when she handed him the slip he had to sign and Alex got the feeling that Leah hadn't been the only one who'd expected a second Bella.

"There's a seat free over there," he said, pointing to a desk at the center of the classroom. There was a girl sitting there. She had pale skin, big, bright blue eyes and dark brown hair, wearing only black and dark eye-shadow. Alex had to smile at her attempt to look Goth.

"Hi, I'm Alex Swan," she said, holding out a hand to the girl. She turned towards Alex, looking at her with her big eyes. The slight Goth accentuations actually suited her very well.

"Gillian Summers. Nice to meet you." They smiled at each other, though Gillian's smile seemed a little sad. They didn't have a chance to talk with each other more, because Mr. Mason began with his lesson.

After English Gillian showed Alex the way to building six where she'd have Government with Mr. Jefferson. They didn't see each other anymore until lunch.

"Come sit with me," Gillian said, dragging Alex over to her table. There were a few other students sitting by the table, but Gillian obviously didn't belong with them. She seemed to be a bit of a loner, probably because she was a little too extreme for the small town folk here, but Alex had seen much worse at her old school. "How do you like Forks so far?"

"It's… nice, actually. I like the forest and not having to wait in line in front of the metal detectors," Alex answered and Gillian smiled again, just as sad as the first time.

"I know what you mean. I'm actually from New York. My parents were sick of the city and decided to have a change of scenery. They absolutely love it here, bad weather included," she said, picking at her food with her fork.

They talked a little longer until the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. It had become very apparent that there was something really bothering Gillian so Alex decided to ask about it.

"Oh, you noticed, huh?" Gillian asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Difficult not to," Alex answered truthfully.

"It's my boyfriend, Aaron. He was found dead on Saturday," Gillian explained, looking close to tears.

"I'm really sorry, Gill, I didn't mean to hurt you." Alex put a reassuring hand on Gillian's shoulder. "Do they know what happened?"

Gillian shook her head, then looked up at Alex with teary eyes. "I have a theory though." She hesitated. "You'll think I'm crazy."

"Try me."

Gillian looked around to see if anyone was in hearing distance. "Last year there were a lot of weird killings, hikers mainly, and there were rumors of large animals having been spotted in the forest. They said it was bears, but I don't think so. I think it was…" Again she hesitated, looking at Alex as if she was trying to figure something out. "It was full moon on Friday night when Aaron was killed and… I think it was a werewolf." She'd only whispered the last part and Alex nearly didn't catch it.

"A werewolf?" she asked skeptically. "Don't you think that's leaning a little too far out the window?"

"I knew you wouldn't believe me, but I'm sure of it," Gillian said stubbornly.

"I don't know, Gill. Werewolves… It's just a little too… _unbelievable_," Alex said.

Gillian sighed. "Yeah, maybe." They walked into the biology lab together so the conversation halted as they went to a table in the far back.

The rest of the day went by very quickly. Alex's last class was Gym and she talked to Coach Clapp about joining the volleyball and girl soccer team. The Coach was a little surprised that Alex wanted to join both teams, but said he'd check for her.

Sport was something Alex loved and something she was very good at. She enjoyed soccer and volleyball just for the running, though her true passion was parkour. She'd only ever had the chance to practice parkour in urban areas, but now she could try it in the forest on her runs. It was the perfect sport to keep in shape, but also to enhance her coordination and reflexes, as well as her awareness of her surroundings and the ability to solve problems. It trained her to face obstacles of any kind at any given time and to overcome them using what was given to her.

After Gym, Alex returned to the Office to give Mrs. Cope the slip the teachers had all signed before she headed out to the parking lot where Sue was already waiting. It was raining so Alex was glad she didn't have to wait around.

"How was your day?" Sue asked as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

"It was nice. I met a really nice girl, too. Gillian Summers."

"Oh yeah, I know her. The Goth, right? Charlie told me about her family once. They moved here from New York about two years ago. Nice people. Pretty wealthy, too," Sue said.

"Yeah, too bad about her boyfriend though."

"What about him?"

"Apparently he was killed Friday night," Alex said, with a smile she added doubtingly, "Gillian thinks it was a werewolf." Sue made a sudden swerve with the steering wheel, nearly driving them off the road and hitting a pale blue truck that was parked in front of a bank. Alex stared at Sue in shock, holding on tight to her seat. What the hell had that just been about?

"Your friend has a very strong imagination," Sue said, smiling as if nothing had happened. That was weird. Alex had not expected that kind of reaction and it immediately triggered an alarm bell in her head.

"Do you think she might be right?" Alex asked, keeping her eyes fixed on Sue's face.

"Of course not. There's no such thing as werewolves." Sue had looked calm enough, but her voice had been strangely pitched and she had to clear her throat after she'd answered.

"Huh." There was something strange going on and Alex's curiosity was roused. She'd have to ask Charlie about Aaron's murder later tonight.

* * *

Shaking the rain out of his hair, Jacob walked towards his house. It was getting dark and he'd spent all his time after school patrolling the area. He still had homework to do and he really didn't feel like doing trigonometry.

When he reached the house he saw Charlie's cruiser parked in front of it. His heart began aching as memories washed over him. Ever since she'd left last month, only days after the problem with the Volturi had been solved, Jacob tried desperately to steer clear of anything that reminded him of Bella. He couldn't even go into his garage anymore.

There had been a moment, when they'd kissed, that he'd had the hope that there could be something more between them. She'd admitted to Jacob that she loved him, but that hadn't been enough. She loved Edward more. And it had broken Jacob's heart. He'd stayed by her side through her pregnancy, her birth and change. He'd planned on killing the baby only to realize he'd hurt Bella by doing so. He'd helped her and the Cullens fight off the Volturi and then she was suddenly gone along with her new family.

She'd called a few times since then, the first time to congratulate him on his birthday and a few more times after that. Jacob often wished she wouldn't so he'd have a chance to forget her and then when she called he couldn't get enough of her voice, keeping her talking for as long as possible. Renesmee was always a good topic. She could talk non-stop about her daughter for hours at a time. Jacob couldn't care less what she talked about as long as he could hear her voice.

He walked into the house, shutting the door silently behind him and went into the living room where Billy was talking to Charlie. They both looked up when Jacob came into the room. "Hey Charlie," Jacob said, his voice sounding hollow. Charlie winced slightly, knowing fully well that Jacob was hurting over his daughter.

"Jake, how are you?" It had taken Charlie a while to get past seeing Jacob in his wolf form, but he seemed to be dealing with it just fine now.

"Fine," he answered shortly, sitting down on a chair, waiting for Charlie to say what was on his mind.

Realizing Jacob wasn't in the mood for small talk, Charlie sighed. "Friday night a boy, Aaron Fletcher, died. We found him the next day on the parking lot of the Golden Gate Restaurant. He must have died sometime after closing hours, because nobody saw anything. He was bled dry and had a huge, gaping hole in his throat. He looked terrified." Charlie sighed again, shaking his head. He pulled two photos out of his pocket and handed them to Jacob.

The first picture was an autopsy photo of the victim. Jacob flinched back in disgust at the hideous wound in the teenager's throat. The throat had been torn open and Jacob couldn't think of any sort of weapon that would have caused such damage, he only knew that this hadn't been done with a knife. It looked more like a savage attack from an animal. The second picture was apparently taken on the crime scene and depicted a long, bloody arc on the ground. "It's not the first case either apparently. Last week, Tuesday, they found Karen Higgins's body on the other side of town. Same wound," Charlie said, handing Jacob another autopsy photo of an attractive young woman. The wound looked almost identical. "She was twenty-three. Aaron was only seventeen. You deal with this stuff, Jake. Do you know if whatever or whoever killed them is the same that caused those hikers to die last year?"

Jacob frowned, thinking about it. "It couldn't be the exact same. We took care of the problem last year. We didn't pick up on anything unusual."

"So the killer might have been… human?" Charlie asked, looking hopeful.

"I don't know. Maybe. Do you mind if I have a look at the crime scene? I might be able to tell you for certain then."

Charlie hesitated for a moment. "Officially no civilians are permitted there. If you do go there, try not to get caught."

Jacob nodded in acknowledgement. He'd have to go at night then. But not today, he had too much work to do. Maybe tomorrow night.

"I can keep them from cleaning up a little longer if that helps," Charlie added and Jacob nodded again. It would be easier to find traces of whatever he was looking for when everything was still the way it had been the night of the murder.

"How are things going with Alexandra?" Billy asked Charlie.

"She's a nice girl. It's obvious that she comes from a bad background, but all things considered she turned out pretty good. I don't know if she'll be difficult, I'll have to see about it. She's definitely not going to be as easy to have around as Bel–" Charlie instantly stopped talking when Jacob jumped up and stormed out of the room. He couldn't bear talking about Bella. The wound was too fresh and deep.

He sank onto his bed, pulling his math homework onto his lap. He tried to concentrate on it, drown out Billy and Charlie's conversation. They weren't talking about Bella anymore, but he just couldn't handle hearing them. The math homework wasn't interesting enough to hold his attention long enough and soon he was back wallowing in memories of the times he'd shared with her.

After the fight with the newborns, when she'd come to visit him on his sickbed, he'd told her he wanted the truth about her feelings, that it would be better for him to know. Now he wasn't so certain anymore. Maybe having lost her wouldn't be so hard if he'd never known the extent of her feelings for him. Maybe he would have been able to move on better believing that all she'd ever felt for him was friendship.

Jacob sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his face. He really had to stop making himself crazy like this. Maybe what he really needed was seeing other girls, getting laid perhaps. Quil certainly thought so. Jacob personally didn't think it would be that simple, but he was about ready to try anything. With a little luck he'd imprint soon and all the pain would disappear.

He lay back, staring up at the wall, deciding to go over what Charlie had told him. Both packs had been out Friday night – all except Leah who'd been in Port Angeles. None of them had noticed anything. If it was a vampire they would have had to pick up the scent somewhere around Forks or La Push.

There were a few things that just didn't seem to fit to a vampire either. They'd never attacked in the town, only in the forest. Jacob knew that newborns had no self-control and would be capable of such gruesome killings, but the wounds still didn't seem to look right. The bloodstain Charlie had shown him indicated a single vicious swipe- not a bite. So far Jacob had never met a human capable of ripping through skin, muscle and cartilage with just one blow. Nor had he ever met a werewolf or vampire that would. It made no sense. The entire front of the victims' throats had been torn away, any trace missing. Who or what walked away from a murder with twelve pints of blood as well as six square inches of throat? And why?

There were only two conclusions he was drawing from this and he didn't like it at all. One, there was something out there that was just as dangerous as a newborn vampire, maybe more dangerous and he didn't know what it was. And two, he had to call someone who _might_ know and the only ones he could think of were the Cullens…

* * *

**For those of you who like my stories: I find uploading stories on fanfiction net a serious pain in the rear end and I'd hate having to do it for nothing. So if you like my stories, please review. I upload for the feedback and I won't bother loading new chapters if I don't get any. So please, please review. Thank you.**


	3. Nighttime

**Chapter 03: Nighttime**

Since Charlie hadn't come home early enough the night before Alex decided she wasn't going to ask him about his case. Instead she cheered along to the football game he was watching, hoping that their shared interest would be a good basis for sharing other things as well. Like murder case information. She even went as far as making breakfast in the morning.

"What are you going to do today, Charlie?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

"Nothing really interesting. I have to talk to some possible witnesses again," he said, chewing on his bacon.

"Witnesses?" Alex asked, sounding appropriately concerned. "Witnesses for what?"

"A student from school was murdered Friday night," Charlie answered, still more occupied with his food than their conversation.

"Oh yeah, I heard of that. Aaron Fletcher from senior year. I heard it was tragic. Some sort of animal attack. A bear or a…" she paused for a second, fixing Charlie with her eyes, making sure she caught his reaction. "… or a wolf, maybe." His fork froze halfway to his mouth. "Must have been a huge one from what I've heard though." She grinned as Charlie broke out in light sweat, forcing himself to shove his fork with the scrambled eggs into his mouth. Alex decided to go a little further. "Must have been a werewolf," she said, making it sound like a joke. Charlie nearly choked on his eggs, coughing violently.

"That's…" he had to clear his throat, "ridiculous."

"Course it is," Alex said, waving it off nonchalantly. "Like there are really werewolves."

"No such thing, yeah," Charlie mumbled, downing his cup of coffee.

"So, do you know anything yet?"

"Not much," Charlie said, obviously glad they were off the topic of mythical creatures. Alex, however, was starting to have the feeling that Gillian might not have been so wrong. There was definitely something weird going on here. "It does seem to look like an animal attack. Maybe a rabid dog or something. Whatever it was also killed Karen Higgins the previous Tuesday."

"Hm." That sort of shattered the werewolf theory. If there had been a full moon on Friday like Gillian had said there couldn't have been one on Tuesday. Maybe Alex was going crazy. Her mother had taken drugs during her pregnancy. Maybe the effects were finally showing. God, she hoped not.

"And they're certain that Karen Higgins was killed on Tuesday?" Gillian asked as they walked to Spanish. Alex had told her everything she'd found out from Charlie.

"Well, I'm pretty sure they can tell the difference between a one-day-old body and a month-old body," Alex answered. "Your theory is just not holding up, Gill." Alex decided not to dwell on the fact that she'd actually gone along with it. It was absolutely ridiculous. There was no such thing as a werewolf.

"I was just so sure." Gillian was biting her lower lip as they entered the classroom. They were sitting at different tables so their conversation had to stop there. "I'll look into it again at home. There must be something I've missed." Before Alex could say anything to that Gillian had dashed off to her seat in the far corner by the window. With a sigh Alex sat down in the chair closest to the door. She knew Gillian would turn up with another crazy theory.

Alex spent most of Spanish doodling absentmindedly on a corner of her notebook. She was thinking about the case Charlie was working on, going through all the little information she'd received. Murders that looked like animal attacks? Real animal attacks? But a bear wouldn't just walk into town, would it? Theories were spinning crazily in her mind, one more unlikely than the other.

She jumped when the bell rang. Gathering up her stuff she noticed that she'd drawn a wolf onto her notebook. She shoved it into her back pack with more force than necessary. She really was going insane.

"I'll call you tonight if I find anything interesting," Gillian yelled, waving goodbye as she hurried to her next class. Alex had Gym as her last class of the day. She'd looked forward to the lesson all day. Gymnastics was always a good way for her to refocus her thoughts.

Just before Gym was over Coach Clapp approached Alex, telling her that the volleyball team was full, but she could try out for the soccer team the following day.

In much higher spirits Alex walked out onto the parking lot, where Sue was waiting just like the day before.

"How was your day? Has Gillian been spinning any new theories?" Sue asked, smiling good-naturedly.

"No, but she's working on it." Sue's façade slipped for a second and she looked worried, but recovered quickly.

"Well, I'm sure Charlie would appreciate some help on this case," Sue joked.

"You don't have to pick me up tomorrow, by the way," Alex informed her. "Soccer try-outs are after school."

"You want to be on the soccer team? But you'll only be here for two months."

"I know, but I hate just sitting around. I need something to do."

"How about the household?" Sue asked and laughed when Alex made a retching noise. "Alright, alright. I get it. Stupid idea," she amended.

"I'm not very good with that sort of stuff," Alex said honestly. She could survive on her cooking and cleaning skills, but she avoided using them whenever possible.

Seth was sitting at the kitchen table when Alex and Sue arrived at Charlie's house, sitting over his Chemistry homework.

"How was school, Sweetie?" Sue asked, kissing him on the head before starting to pull out pots and pans to get a head start on dinner. Son and mother talked for a little while, Seth complaining about all the homework he had to do for Chemistry. Alex felt an uncomfortable twinge in her chest as she watched them interact. Her mother had never asked her about school or anything else. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thoughts about her mother.

"What about you, Alex? Do you remember any of your Chemistry from your freshman year?" Sue asked.

"Sure I do," Alex answered, grabbing an apple from the kitchen counter and sitting down across from Seth. "Don't mix beer with vodka." Seth snorted and Alex grinned at him.

It was getting dark outside when Alex was finally finished with her homework. Seth had been picked up by some friends of his and Sue was downstairs in the living room. Charlie wasn't home yet.

Her cell phone rang and she could tell from the caller's ID that it was Gillian.

"Hey Gill," Alex said, answering the phone.

"I found something," Gillian said and Alex had to roll her eyes.

"So what was it? A Wendigo?" She joked. She didn't really mind Gillian's strange world views. There wasn't much she hadn't seen or heard at her old school.

"No," Gillian replied. "I found a book about old Quileute legends. It talks about tribe members turning into wolves without it having to be a full moon."

"You think it's someone from the Reservation?"

"Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't have to be. The full moon is mainly a modern aspect of lycanthropy, just like the idea of turning into one by being bitten," Gillian said, then dove into an explanation. "There is mention of it in some European countries like Germany, Italy and France, but those merely say that one can become a werewolf by lying outside on a specific Wednesday or Friday on a summer night with the full moon shining directly on one's face. Aside from that werewolves are very rarely associated with the lunar cycle."

Alex sighed and leaned back against the headboard of her bed. They were back to square one. "So it could be anyone." Assuming it really was a werewolf.

"Well… yeah," Gillian said, a little dejected.

"Okay, let's talk about it tomorrow in school," Alex said, rubbing a hand over her face. They exchanged quick goodbyes and she turned off her phone.

She'd finally managed to convince herself that Gillian was just fantasizing, but now the only thing that had spoken against her theory was no longer an issue. On the other hand, she'd learned that no theory was ever too strange until proven wrong. Maybe she just had to get more information.

With new vigor Alex jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs, putting on shoes and her leather jacket and grabbing her huge, very worn and very old, black purse.

"Where are you off to?" Sue asked, coming out of the living room.

"I'm… meeting Gillian," Alex lied quickly.

"But Charlie's about to come home and dinner's almost ready."

"I'm sorry, but Gillian invited me over and if I wait until after dinner Charlie will think it's too late for me to leave."

Sue sighed. "Do you want me to drive you over?"

"No, I'll be fine. It's not raining and I didn't go for my run this afternoon. So I can do it now." With that Alex quickly left the house before Sue had a chance to insist on driving her.

She decided not to go to the crime scene directly. It was still too early and someone might see her there. Exploring the town was a good way to kill some time so she did just that. Forks truly was a tiny town, but charming in its own folksy way. The stores were small and not nearly as well equipped as a larger city like Port Angeles, not even mentioning Detroit or even New York, but they had everything that was essential to a comfortable life. The people here were kind and friendly.

It wasn't until close to midnight that Alex felt safe enough on the dark streets not to get caught. Quickly she made her way back to where she knew the Golden Gate restaurant to be. The parking lot was still closed off with yellow police tape. This, Alex thought, was odd. The crime scene should have been cleaned up already. But she didn't mind. This way she might actually find something. If there was anything.

The white markings that had showed where the body had been found were washed away, but there was still a faint dark stain where blood had been spilled. She didn't know much about werewolves apart from what she'd seen in movies, but she thought that the bloodstain seemed too small. The werewolves in the movies usually were savage beasts, tearing a human to shreds. It would have had to be a bloodbath.

Rummaging through her purse she shoved the pepper spray and her wallet out of the way and grabbed her flashlight. Turning it on, Alex inspected the ground a little more closely. Now with the light, she could see the faint smearing of the white markings. But not any more blood.

She widened her search across the parking lot further and further until she reached the wall of the restaurant. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. The police might have already bagged all crucial evidence. She'd just hoped they might have overlooked something. She wasn't certain if she could get any more details out of Charlie.

Alex was about to give up her search when her flashlight caught something dark on the wall in its beam. She looked at it more closely. It was a symbol; an intricately decorated, downward-pointing pentagram. Had it been there prior to the murder? Or had the killer drawn it on the wall? The second option made it even more unlikely that a werewolf was behind it.

With a heavy sigh Alex turned around and froze. There was someone kneeling by the bloodstain and though the man was crouching Alex could tell that he was very, very tall, at least six foot five – probably taller – and very muscular. She couldn't quite tell what he was wearing by the dim light from the nearest street lamp, but it looked like cut-off jeans. No shirt or shoes.

"Hey," she called out to him, clutching the flashlight tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. The man didn't turn around, but straightened up. He was taller than she'd estimated – a good seven feet tall. His back, which was turned to her, was broad with wide shoulders and a lean waist. Alex couldn't see his face, but she could tell he had short-cropped black hair. The light from the street lamp glistened off russet skin. He was probably from the Reservation.

Alex heart started beating faster when she remembered what Gillian had told her about the Quileute legends. Was this the killer? Had he returned to the scene of his last murder? She shook the idea off. Her instinct told her he wasn't the murderer, but maybe he was someone who had some answers.

"Hey," she shouted again, trying to get the man's attention. "Can I ask you some questions?" The man started walking away from her, towards the flower shop across the parking lot. "Sir, can I ask you some questions?" she yelled again, starting to jog after him.

With his wide stride he'd crossed the lot and rounded the corner of the flower shop before she could catch up with him. She followed him around the shop, but he was gone. She looked around, letting the beam of her flashlight travel over every niche. But he was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn," she hissed under her breath.

* * *

Jacob crouched well hidden on the low roof, watching the girl move away from the flower shop. His heart was racing from the adrenaline of nearly being caught. He really should have paid better attention to his surroundings, but he hadn't expected anyone to be there. He'd kept an eye on the street in case a police car was pulling up, but he hadn't bothered looking around the restaurant.

It wasn't hard to figure who the girl was. Bella's human smell was all over her due to the girl sleeping in Bella's old bed and wearing an old sweater of hers. It had to be Alexandra, Bella's cousin. There was no resemblance between the cousins. Alexandra seemed to be everything Bella hadn't been; tall, athletic, confident, coordinated and apparently _looking_ for danger rather than attracting it.

His heart rate slowed as she disappeared down the street. Jumping off his hiding place, he landed soundlessly on the asphalt below and walked to the spot where she had been. There was a pentagram on the wall. He couldn't be certain, but he believed that it hadn't been there before the murder. He pulled a torn piece of paper and a pencil out of his jeans pocket and made a quick sketch of the symbol. So far this was the only thing he had found.

Just when he was about to call it a night the wind changed direction. Jacob turned around to look across the parking lot. Something was not right, he could feel it. Perhaps his imagination was playing tricks on him, but he thought that he could feel evil around him; an ancient evil that still lurked in the shadows between the buildings. He thought he caught the slightest waft of death and decay in the air. The stench was foul and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His heart started racing as his survival instinct responded to the felt threat with panic and the urge to run away.

He shook his head to clear it, breathing deeply to ease his heartbeat. The moment of evil had subsided, leaving him shaky. Jacob couldn't push it off any longer; he had to call the Cullens.

"Hello?" Jacob had to swallow hard as the sound of Bella's voice made the ache in his stomach throb nearly unbearably.

"Hey, it's me," he rasped past the lump in his throat.

"Jake! It's great to hear from you," she said cheerfully. He supposed he should be glad she didn't ask how he was, because he would have to lie his ass off.

"It's great to hear you too." He wished he could continue his little self-torturing session, but he had more pressing matters at hand. "Listen, could you get me someone on the phone who is… a little more experienced with supernatural life forms of all shapes and sizes."

"Uh, yeah… I guess," Bella answered confused. "Hang on." The line went quiet for a few moments in which Jacob prayed to all that was holy to him that she wouldn't get Edward on the line. He didn't think he could survive that conversation.

"Jacob?" He sighed in relief when he heard the Doctor's voice.

"Hello Dr. Cullen."

"Bella said you need something concerning supernatural creatures," Carlisle said, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, I do." Jacob explained to Carlisle everything he knew about Charlie's case, the two victims, the unusual wounds, the pentagram as well as the strange feeling of evil he'd had tonight.

"Did it smell like maybe there was some dead animal lying around close by?" Carlisle asked.

"No, not exactly. The smell was different; older and fouler. I can't really explain it," Jacob answered.

Carlisle remained quiet for the better part of three minutes and Jacob was about to lose hope of ever getting an answer when Carlisle finally said; "I know what killed these people and you're not going to like it."

"I actually figured that much on my own."

* * *

Mrs. Everett sighed deeply as she pulled her bathrobe tighter around her body. She watched as her old dog, Trevor, padded through the back yard, looking for a good place to pee. It was only three o'clock in the morning, but Trevor no longer had control of his bladder like he used to. Mrs. Everett walked over to her flower beds, wondering when the weather would be good enough for her to start working on them. The cold wind sent a chill down her back and she wished Trevor would hurry up a little. The dog had disappeared in one of the bushes lining the forest that began where her yard ended.

The wind made a second pass and Mrs. Everett wrinkled her nose in disgust. It smelled like something at least the size of a raccoon had died in one of the bushes and was now in an advanced stage of decay.

"Great," she muttered, following the rustling of a bush. With her luck Trevor had already found the dead animal and was rolling in it. Mrs. Everett had to get up for work in only two hours, she really did not want to waste her time having to wash her dog.

"Trevor!" She advanced towards the rustling bush, the odor of rotting meat growing stronger. "Trev–"

The second half of the word was ripped violently from her throat, turning into an inaudible gurgle as her severed windpipe filled with blood.

The last thing Mrs. Everett saw was a pair of big, lidless, yellow eyes. The last thing she felt was a mouth against her mangled throat. Then everything went black.

* * *

It tore the second half of the word from her throat, caught the falling body in its other hand, and pulled the wound up to the gaping circle of its mouth. Sucking noisily, it began to ingest the blood. It staggered and almost dropped its meal as a heavy weight slammed into it from the back and claws dragged lines of pain from shoulders to hip. Snarling, drooling red, it turned.

Trevor's lips were drawn back, his ears were flat against his skull, and his own snarl was more a howl as he threw himself forward again. He twisted in midair, spun around by a glancing blow, and landed heavily on three legs, blood staining his tan shoulder almost black. Maddened by the creature's proximity, he snarled again and struck at the dangling wing, crushing it in his powerful jaws.

Before the dog could bring his massive neck and shoulder muscles into play, the creature kicked out. One long talon drove through a rib and dragged six inches deep through the length of the mastiff's body, spilling a glistening pile of intestines into the dirt.

With one last, feeble toss of his head, Trevor managed to tear the already injured wing membrane further, then the light blazing in his eyes slowly dimmed and with a final hate-filled growl, he died.

Even in death, his jaws kept their hold and the creature had to rip them apart before it could be free and vanished…


	4. Pentagram

**Chapter 04: Pentagram**

"You were there last night?" Gillian exclaimed in shock when Alex told her of her little nighttime excursion. "Did you find anything?"

"No, I don't think so," Alex said. The pentagram was probably just some sort of graffiti. There was no reason to give Gillian even more reason to believe in her supernatural theories.

Alex had to stifle a yawn. She hadn't come home until two in the morning and then Charlie had lectured her for another hour about not being out so late on a school night. She admitted he might have a point.

"Too bad. The police probably already have everything interesting. You think you could get your uncle to fill you in on the case?" Gillian asked, looking hopeful.

"I doubt it, he's not exactly my biggest fan right now and he wouldn't want me involved in any of this. He'd probably send me straight back to Detroit if he found out what I've been up to last night. You're my alibi, by the way."

"Did we watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch or something?"

"We watched _An American Werewolf in London_," Alex said, grinning.

Gillian snorted. "Very appropriate, but couldn't you think of anything a little more modern?"

"I like old movies. And it's not _that_ old."

"It's from 1981. At least you could have used the sequel from 1997," Gillian said.

"That one sucked." They continued arguing about horror movies all the way to Biology where they had to stop.

* * *

When Jacob got home Charlie was already there. He looked paler than usual and very tired.

"Have you gone to the crime scene already?" Charlie asked, taking a sip from the beer Billy had handed to him. Charlie wasn't usually someone who drank on the job, so Jacob figured he'd had a very rough day.

"I have and I'm pretty sure that we're dealing with something non-human." He decided not to go into details. Charlie didn't want to know specifics.

"Whatever it is, it killed again last night. Marcia Everett was found this morning in her backyard. Same neck wound as the other two." Jacob nodded. He knew Mrs. Everett only by sight. She'd owned a little bakery in Forks. A very sweet, elderly lady. "She's not the only victim this time though."

"Who else died?" Jacob asked in confusion. Why would it kill twice a night?

"Her dog, Trevor. We figure he was trying to protect her and attacked… whatever it was. He was slit open six inches deep the length of his body."

"What makes you think he protected her?"

"He's a mastiff. His jaws had been forced so far apart his head split." Jacob shuddered at the image in his head. If the mastiff had clamped its teeth down on the attacker the jaws wouldn't open anymore even if the animal was dead so the attacker had to rip them apart to free himself.

"Good heavens," Billy hissed. "Your pack is on this right?"

Jacob didn't look up from the floor. "Yeah," he lied. So far he hadn't informed anyone from his or Sam's pack. If this was indeed what Carlisle had said it was then Jacob wasn't sure if he wanted to drag them into this mess. It was worse enough that apparently Charlie's niece was snooping around. Did Charlie know about that? He doubted it. But she couldn't possibly know what this was all about.

* * *

The news of Mrs. Everett's death spread like wildfire through Forks over the next two days, though the details of the case were negligible. The official statement was that her throat, like the throats of the two previous victims, had been cut. There was no mention of a murder weapon, because there wasn't really one.

_It's to keep panic at a minimum_, Alex thought as she sat on her bed with her trigonometry homework spread out in front of her. It was Saturday and she technically didn't have to do her homework yet, but she couldn't think of anything else to do. She didn't have soccer practice until Monday. They were supposed to calculate the degrees of angles for different triangular forms and that just didn't occupy her mind enough. It kept slipping to the murders and she became more and more frustrated with the little she knew. Murders always had a pattern; age, sex, class or skin color or the victims. But Alex couldn't find any pattern this time.

With a sigh she refocused her attention on the text book. One of the figures suddenly caught her eye. A pentagram.

A jolt of realization hit her.

What if it didn't matter _who_ got killed, but _where_?

Alex's heart started pounding as she stared at the five-pointed star. Maybe the symbol on the wall of the restaurant wasn't just graffiti. Maybe it really was important.

"Let's find out." She quickly scrambled out of bed, armed with a marker, a ruler and a protractor and ran down the stairs. Charlie wasn't home and Sue had left an hour ago with Seth so she was alone. Tearing open drawers she finally found what she was looking for in the kitchen; a map of Forks.

Spreading it out on the kitchen table she used the red marker to mark the sights of the three killings. They formed an isosceles triangle, two sides being of equal length, with two angles of the same measure.

"Alright, so far so good." With her ruler she connected the three red dots with the two equally long lines. She measured out thirty-six degrees and drew another line of the same length as the first two, then drew two more lines.

She stared at the red pentagram she'd drawn on the map. Could it really be? If it was, a werewolf just didn't seem to be the problem anymore. But what was? She couldn't think of any mythical creatures that would draw a bloody pentagram on a city. Or was it really some lunatic with a fascination for magical symbols?

Grabbing her cell phone she dialed Gillian's number. "Hey Alex."

"Hi. Gill, I have a question."

"Shoot," Gillian said.

"Okay. You're all over this occult stuff, right?" Alex asked.

"Like ectoplasm on a poltergeist," Gillian answered and Alex could hear the grin in her voice.

"So what's the significance of a pentagram?"

"It's a power symbol," Gillian answered. "They're used to focus power in rituals, like to call spirits, that kind of thing. Why, what did you find?"

"It may be nothing. If I find anything I'll let you know."

"You know something," Gillian insisted. "Tell me."

"If I find anything I'll call you back, okay? Bye." Alex hung up before Gillian had time to argue more. "Power symbol, huh?" she muttered, staring at the red pentagram that covered downtown Forks. Three people were dead and Alex was pretty sure she knew where the next victim would be. The forth corner of the pentagram was located in the center of Tillicum Park. Her gut told her that the next killing would be soon. Possibly tonight.

Charlie wasn't home yet so this was the only time she had for sneaking out of the house. He'd have her neck for it, but if she could help save a life then it would just have to be worth it. She quickly wrote a note, telling him she'd be back sometime later, that she was exploring the town.

* * *

Angrily Irving Keaton slammed the door to his apartment. Apartment was a big word actually. When he'd begun his training at the Forks hospital four months ago he'd moved away from his parents and into this basement apartment. It did have everything he needed though, so he didn't mind.

What angered him were the people around him. He had money now. Lots of money. And designer clothes and a new car. A nice red Porsche. And still they all laughed. Irving was of average height, with a very gangly build. He had a pallid complexion and chin-long, black, greasy hair. He was trying to look more manly and grown-up by growing out a goatee, but so far it hadn't shown much effect.

Just now he'd driven up to a nice-looking girl in his Porsche, scraped together all his courage and asked her out. She'd nearly fallen over with laughter and of course her friends had joined in immediately. He'd driven away quickly, embarrassed.

_She laughed at me. Everyone always laughs at me. Last one chosen to play baseball. Never wearing quite the same clothes as the other kids. They even laughed at me when I got perfect marks on tests._ He'd stopped telling them all about it eventually; about the A plus papers, about the projects used as study aids by the teachers, about winning the science fair three years in a row, about reading _War and Peace_ over the weekend. They weren't interested in his triumphs. They always laughed.

Just like she laughed.

Irving shoved the furniture to the side of the modestly sized living room, then grabbed the afghan off the sofa and hung it on the half dozen hooks he'd put over the apartment door. The heavy wool would trap most of the odors before they could reach the staircase leading up. For the rest, he opened the tiny window about two inches and used a mushroom-shaped air freshener to keep it from slamming closed. Ignoring the sudden stream of cold air and the increase in noise from the teenage son living upstairs, blasting his stereo system, he pushed the fan up tight against the crack and turned it on.

He continued setting everything up for the summoning.

The creature that stood in the center of Irving's living room only moments later was man-sized and vaguely man-shaped and all the more hideous for the slight resemblance.

Irving, breathing shallowly through his mouth, stepped a bit closer, careful to keep enough distance. "I have called you," he declared, "I'm your master."

The creature inclined its head and its features shifted with the movement as if it had no skull beneath the moist covering of skin. "You are master," it agreed, although the fleshy hole of a mouth didn't adapt its constant motion to utter the words.

"You must do as I command."

The huge and lidless, yellow eyes scanned the room. Irving stroked almost lovingly over the faded leather binding of the book that had opened all new possibilities to him, resting on a makeshift dais. "Yes," it admitted at last.

"Someone laughed at me tonight. I don't want her to ever laugh at me again."

The creature waited silently, awaiting further instruction, its color changing from muddy-black to greenish-brown and back again.

"Kill her!"

* * *

Jacob strolled through the park, bidding his time until nightfall. He'd done what Carlisle had told him; to connect the scenes of the murders on a map and complete the pentagram. This was theoretically where the fourth attack was supposed to happen. He didn't know when the next attack would happen so he decided he would spend his nights strolling through the park. His school work was going to suffer again and Billy wouldn't be pleased about it, but he understood the importance of eliminating this threat as soon as possible. With a little luck all this would be over tonight. Unfortunately Jacob really didn't know what he was up against. Carlisle hadn't been able to be very specific about the creature – its strengths and weaknesses or how to kill it – since he'd never met one himself.

He'd decided to stick with his former choice of keeping the rest of the pack out of this. He had written a letter to Leah, his Beta, and put it on his desk for Billy to find should something happen to him and someone else would have to deal with the threat.

The light was slowly fading and Jacob sat down on a bench at the center of the park. Walking around wouldn't help, he might miss something. He closed his eyes, concentrating on sounds and smells. He'd hear a scream or smell the odor of decay long before he'd see anything else.

He contemplated if he should turn into a wolf, being stronger and faster in his other shape, but he couldn't risk someone seeing him.

Just then he heard a woman's scream. As fast as he could he raced towards the sound. He came to a stop, staring at the hideous sight before him. The creature stood, silhouetted against the night, bent over a young, blond woman, holding her in its long claws. For a terrible second he thought that it was Charlie's niece, but the girl had straight, darker hair. The smell of decaying flesh and fresh blood made Jacob's stomach turn with nausea. But he had to concentrate.

The creature lifted its head, staring at Jacob with its lidless, yellow eyes, the pupils being nothing but snake-like vertical slits. Jacob's heart skipped a beat as panic gripped at it. The evil radiating off the creature was so intense he could feel it down to his bones. He gasped to fill his lungs with air, trying to calm his nerves. He needed to keep his head on straight.

It unfurled its massive, bat-like wings, making it look larger and even more threatening than it already did.

It dropped the dead girl just as Jacob dove forward. Jacob twisted past six-inch talons, leapt, and slammed both clenched fists into the creature's head. The gray mottled surface collapsed upon itself like wet cork, absorbing the blow and reforming. The creature's backswing caught him on his way down and flung him crashing into a bench, which broke into splinters at the impact. Jacob rolled, narrowly avoiding a killing blow, and scrambled to his feet with a metal strut in his hand, the broken end bright and sharp. But the creature was gone.

He dropped to the ground beside the girl, checking her pulse on her wrist, but he already knew she was dead. She couldn't have survived with the gaping hole in her throat. "Damn," he hissed quietly. Just then the beam of a flashlight shone in his face, blinding him.

"Hey!" A female voice yelled furiously. "Stop right there!" He turned slightly so the light wouldn't shine directly into his eyes. Now he could see who it was. Charlie's niece.

He was honestly surprised to see her there. He knew she'd been snooping in the case, but he hadn't expected her to find out where the next killing would happen. He had to smile. He'd definitely underestimated her.

"Make another move and you'll lose all that fancy dental work," she threatened, swinging the flashlight like a club, obviously interpreting his smile as a threat.

_Just great_, Jacob thought. Now she would think he was the killer. He had to sort this out.

He got up and approached her. Instantly she went into a defensive crouch, tightening her grip on the flashlight. Before Jacob had time to say anything she launched at him, swinging the flashlight at his head. He dodged it easily, but his elbow clipped her under her jaw. Her head fell back and then her whole body leaned backwards. Jacob only had time to catch her a second before she hit the ground, unconscious.

"Oh shit." Just when he thought it wouldn't get worse he heard police sirens close by. The two of them hadn't been the only ones to hear the dead girl screaming and someone had called the police.

Making a fast decision he heaved the unconscious girl up into his arms and sprinted away from the crime scene, disappearing into the darkness…

**Please review! The next chapter is my second favorite from this story. Jacob and Alex finally stand face to face, but there's that teeny problem where Alex _might_ have the wrong impression about Jacob. Nothing like a good misunderstanding to spice up the beginning of a relationship. So review a lot so I can upload the next chapter real quick. It's all written already, so it's entirely up to you reviewers just how fast the chapters are coming.**


	5. Partners

**Chapter 05: Partners**

If Charlie ever found out about this he would probably shoot Jacob on sight. He bit his lower lip as he looked at the unconscious girl on his couch. He was just glad that his father was away on a fishing trip over night.

Alexandra, he noticed, was very attractive, though there was a definite hint of obstinacy about the width of her jaw. Her light golden curls framed her face perfectly. The long, thick, black lashes lay softly on her cheeks, fluttering slightly as her eyes moved underneath the closed lids. Her skin was slightly tanned, smooth and soft-looking. She was tall and athletic, her figure showing the obvious signs of extensive physical exercise, though she wasn't at all flat. She actually had very nice curves. She didn't wear make-up either, which was something he very much approved of.

Jacob was worried that she might be concussed. He hadn't meant to hit her and it wasn't as hard as it could have been with his enhanced strength, but that didn't change the fact that a head blow slammed the brain back and forth within the skull, mashing soft tissue against bone.

Just when he contemplated calling the hospital the tiny muscles of her face shifted and her eyes opened. They had various shades of gray, reminding him of roiling thunderclouds. The tip of her tongue moistened dry lips and she met his gaze without fear.

"Son of a bitch," she said clearly, wincing.

* * *

Alex came up out of the darkness trying to recall what had happened, but the pounding of blood in her ears made it difficult to summon a coherent thought. She fought against it. Pain – and, oh God, it hurt – meant danger. She had to know where she was, how she got there and how she was going to get away from wherever she was.

A man's face swam into view inches above her own. A face she recognized.

"Son of a bitch," she said and winced. The movement of her jaw sent new waves of pain up into her head. She forced herself to ignore them. The last time she'd seen that face, and the body it was no doubt attached to, it had risen from slaughter. He'd knocked her out and brought her here; wherever here was.

She tried to look past him, to get some idea of her surroundings, but her eyes couldn't quite focus yet. Did she know _anything_ she could use?

_I'm fully clothed, lying on a couch in the company of an insane killer_. There seemed to be only one thing she could do. She jumped off the couch.

Alex instantly regretted that move. The world around her began to turn violently, her head was pounding and her eyesight grew dark again as she stumbled, nearly falling forward. Large hands gripped her by her shoulders, keeping her upright and guiding her back onto the couch with gentle pressure. She had to fight the wave of nausea that had overcome her.

"Easy now," the man said calmly, pressing something cold to her jaw. An ice pack. "I was just trying to protect myself. Perhaps a bit too forcefully." His tone remained soothing and pacifying.

"You think?" she spat angrily, grabbing the ice pack from him and pressing it against her aching jaw. There was bound to be a bruise.

"It's entirely possible you won't believe this," he continued as if she hadn't said anything, "but I don't want to hurt you."

To her surprise, Alex did believe him. Maybe it was the tone, or the timbre, or the ice pack he'd given her. Maybe her brains had been scrambled, which seemed more likely.

"Yeah, you have a funny way of showing that," she said sarcastically, her words sending another throb through her head. He was watching her closely, bemusement in his eyes. She obviously didn't react the way he expected her to. If he wanted terror, she'd have to try for it later, at present her head hurt too much to make the effort. And besides, if it turned out he was the killer, there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it now.

"I wasn't the one threatening the other's dental work," he replied, flashing a brilliant smile at her. "My smile's my best feature," he joked.

"I've never met a vain serial killer."

He sobered, instantly turning serious. "I didn't kill that woman or any of the others. I was trying to stop it."

"Yeah, why would I believe that?"

"You were there. You must have seen it."

Seen what? She'd seen the body, him bending over it. _Darkness swirled against darkness and was gone._ No. She shook her head, the physical pain a secondary concern. Her mind shied away from the memory so quickly and with such blind panic that she could nearly convince herself that it was just her imagination.

But now the thought was there and she could remember the vague shape she'd seen, sinking into the earth and the terror that had struck her at the sight so hard it had felt like a physical blow to her stomach, the evil that had been so palpable, the smell of decay and rot.

_Darkness swirled against darkness and was gone._ She couldn't catch her breath and began to struggle against the strong hands that held her, her mind pleading to forget. "No…" she practically whimpered.

"Yes," the man said, still calm and soothing.

Gradually under his steady gaze and the heat that spread through her from where he touched her, she calmed. "What…" She had to wet her dry lips and tried again. "What was it?"

"A demon."

"Demons don't –" _Darkness swirled against darkness and was gone_. "Oh."

* * *

Jacob straightened, sitting back on the coffee table, almost smiling. He could practically see her turning the facts over, accepting the evidence, and adjusting her worldview to fit. She didn't look happy about it, but she did it anyway. He was impressed. He'd always thought that Bella was good with weird, but her cousin definitely gave her a run for her money.

"Why were you there?" she asked after a moment of silence.

What should he tell her? Although she wasn't exactly receptive – not that he blamed her – she wasn't openly hostile either. The truth, then, or as much of it as seemed safe.

"I was hunting the demon. I was just a little too late." He frowned slightly. "Why were _you_ there, Ms. Swan?"

"Alex," she corrected him. "I…" she hesitated for a moment, clearly feeling embarrassed about her next words. "I was hunting a werewolf."

He looked at her incredulously for a moment then burst out laughing loudly. No wonder she was taking the demon theory so well when she was already looking for something supernatural. And of all things it had to be a werewolf.

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she waited for him to stop laughing. Now he had to choose.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he said, making up his mind. She could be useful. After all, she'd been smart enough to find the demon the same time he had. Without help.

"You believe in werewolves?"

"I _am_ a werewolf." He could see her eyes widening and for the tiniest moment he thought there was fear in them, though it disappeared before he could be certain.

"Well, then I don't have to worry about you trying to kill me until the next full moon," she said, the sarcastic tone back in her voice.

He chuckled. "The moon has nothing to do with our phasing… or transformation as you might call it." He didn't know why, but he felt an intense relief now that he had told her. It was as if he just needed an outsider who was privy to his secret.

"And I suppose silver bullets won't kill you either, Mister…?" She left her sentence hanging and he realized he hadn't introduced himself yet.

"Jacob. Jacob Black," he said, offering his hand to her to shake. She accepted it, looking down in bewilderment when she felt his heightened temperature. "And no, silver bullets wouldn't harm me more or less than regular bullets. I do heal pretty fast though."

"_Right_." She obviously didn't believe a word he was saying.

With a grin, Jacob got up and went to the kitchen to retrieve a knife. She gasped when he came towards her with the blade, backing away from him as far as the couch cushions permitted, the ice pack slipping to the floor.

_Whoops_. He hadn't intended to scare her. "It's really a shame you're not the more trusting type, Alex." He placed the sharp edge of the knife on his palm and pressed down while pulling the knife toward his body, leaving a relatively shallow cut. A small rivulet of blood was running down the side of his palm, but it ran dry only a second later.

"I'm telling you the truth," he said, showing her his palm. She watched as the cut began to heal right before her eyes, looking days old in a matter of seconds.

"That's what I feared," she said, breathing heavily.

After this it was almost too easy to tell her the rest, though he left out the vampires at first, simply calling them a threat. She was the one who made the connection.

"I have seen Underworld and Van Helsing," She'd said, grinning at him.

"Hollywood is bound to get something right eventually," he'd replied.

He left out most of his involvement with Bella, sticking with just being friends, but he thought that she'd probably looked right through him. If she had, she made no comment on it, which he was thankful for.

* * *

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked when he finished. Alex felt overwhelmed by all the information, her head hurting even more than before – if that was even possible.

"Because I basically had only two options: I could either trust you or kill you and, quite frankly, I don't much like the second option."

"I'm glad we agree on that," she said and he smiled at her. His smile reminded her of Seth. Jacob had the same sunny smile that made her feel all warm inside.

"Besides, we might be able to help each other out if we work together. I'm still hunting the demon and something tells me you're not going to quit even if I asked you to."

"Again we agree." There was no way she was backing down now. But she wasn't sure if she could trust Jacob enough to team up with him. He'd told her an incredible story, but people could say a lot of things when the day was long enough. If he wasn't what he claimed though, why go to all the trouble of making up such a complicated story?

_Never mind_, she chided herself. _Stupid question_. She'd once met a pathological liar, who'd lived in her apartment block, and why was never a question he'd concerned himself with.

Still there were parts she was sure to be true. Or he believed them to be true. He had a great dislike for vampires, she could practically feel the hatred radiating off of him when they'd covered that subject fleetingly. Though he'd described it as a friendship, Alex was pretty certain that there had been more between Jacob and her cousin, Bella. She could tell by the way his voice broke when he talked about her and the pain in his eyes and the hurt when he spoke of how she'd chosen to stay with Edward.

She also knew the part about the demon was true and that Jacob wasn't the one who'd murdered those people. Not from his words and reassurances. Her own reaction had convinced her. Her own terror. Her mind's refusal to clearly recall what she had seen. The feeling of evil, cloying and cold, emanating out of the darkness.

Alex pulled her leather jacket tighter, the chill running down her spine having nothing to do with the room's temperature.

Now that she was certain that Jacob wasn't the killer she took the time to look at him. _Really_ look at him. She'd already memorized all significant features in case she managed to escape and give the police a thorough description; his height of impressive seven feet, his very muscular – yet not bulky – physique, his short, glossy, black hair, dark, deep-set eyes, the high planes of his cheekbones and full lips. Now she noticed how his eyes lit up from obsidian black to a deep brown when he laughed, how his silky-looking, russet skin shone under the ceiling lamp and how the muscles shifted, bunched and relaxed underneath it with every movement. He was incredibly attractive and Alex could barely believe that he was supposed to be only seventeen. He looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"I… I have to think about it," Alex said. "What you've told me… Well, I have to think about it." She realized she sounded kind of lame, but it was the best she could do.

"I understand." Jacob got up, holding out a hand to her. Alex stared at it for a moment, then grabbed it and got up with his help. That turned out to be a good thing, because her head immediately started spinning out of control and she staggered forward again. It was thanks to his quick reflexes that she didn't fall.

"I'll drive you home," Jacob said.

"I'm fine," Alex snapped. She didn't much like the idea of driving in a car with someone she'd believed to be a killer an hour or so ago.

"Even if you are – and I'm sure that's not the case – you're in La Push right now. That's a far way to walk." He had a point. Did he drive her here after knocking her out or…? Her eyes travelled over his muscled arms.

"You carried me, didn't you?"

He hesitated for a moment. "It's a wolf thing." Alex took a deep breath. La Push was about half an hour away from Forks – by car. That was very impressive.

"Okay, you can drive me," she finally relented. Jacob helped her out to his car – a red 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit. She had to smile. It wasn't the kind of car she'd expected him to drive. She'd expected something bigger, something more extraordinary.

"Nice," Alex said. "I once hot-wired one of these."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Jacob replied with a broad grin.

The drive back to Forks was silent. There was too much on Alex's mind. It felt like her brain was having an overload and it didn't help with her headache at all. This afternoon she hadn't really believed in anything supernatural, she'd just gone with a theory that was basically as likely as any other. But now she'd seen proof of an entirely different world existing right in the unknowing people's backyards. Hell, there was proof sitting right next to her. _They just don't teach you about this sort of shit in school_.

They stopped at a red light, driving through Forks. The crossing road was Division Street. The police headquarters were only a few blocks east. She could go in and talk to someone who understood. _About demons and werewolves, right_.

Suddenly, the headquarters building seemed very far away.

When they pulled up to Charlie's house the clock on the dashboard read five in the morning.

"God, I hope Charlie's asleep," she muttered.

"He is," Jacob assured her. She looked at him, wondering just what else he was capable of. "How are you dealing with all this?" He sounded concerned, if for her or for his secret, she didn't know.

"I'm not sure," Alex admitted. "But I think you're right. We can accomplish more working together. So, for now, you've got yourself a partner."

"Then I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll talk about it some more." She looked at him again. It was hard to make out his features in the dark, but she remembered his sincere expression. She could trust him. Couldn't she?

"Okay," she answered and got out of the car. She watched as he drove off before she went inside.

Alex couldn't even be bothered to change her clothes. Her bed was warm and last night's rest seemed forever ago, slowly she slid under the blanket and slowly the room around her began to blur…

* * *

**This is my second favorite chapter in this story, my favorite is coming a bit later. I had a lot of fun writing Jacob's and Alex's first real encounter. I hope you have as much fun reading it.**

The story is all written, so I can upload at any time. When I'm going to upload next is entirely up to you reviewers. I'd really like some more reviews, so please give me some feedback on what you think of the story. I'd really appreciate it. I'm writing this story for my entertainment, but I'm loading it for yours, so please don't make me give up.


	6. Demon

**Chapter 06: Demon**

When Jacob returned home he switched on the television and grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the shelf where his father tried to hide it behind a stack of old fishing magazines. Billy wouldn't approve of his son drinking alcohol, but he wasn't here to tell Jacob off and he needed something to dull his emotions at least a tiny bit, he was too wound up now. He swore to himself he'd only drink a shot or two.

The car ride had been terrible. Alex had worn another old sweater from Bella and the smell of her had filled the air in the confined space of the car. It had reminded him too much of all the times they'd been riding in a car together.

Bella had always been his outside confidante. The human who was supposed to know nothing and knew everything of the world Jacob lived in. But Bella had always known what she wanted and she'd pulled through despite all the obstacles in her way.

And now there was Alex. She wasn't the kind and nurturing type like Bella. She had a strength – a force of personality and self-confidence – that Bella had never possessed. He doubted that anyone could ever make decisions over her head without having to deal with her retaliation unlike Bella who'd let people walk all over her just to keep everyone else happy. Bella had always been the damsel in distress, waiting for her knight in shining armor – reluctant maybe, but always settling into the role eventually. Alex, on the other hand, would probably feed the knight to the dragon for trying to save her. But Alex was just as real in her own world as Bella had been in hers and he had the feeling that, unless he was very careful, she was about to become as real in his.

He'd wanted this, hadn't he? Someone to trust. Someone who wasn't really a part in any of this supernatural business. But he knew it would have to stay with that. Jacob didn't think he was ready to give up on Bella yet and even if he was, a girl who was going to leave again in two months wasn't the solution.

* * *

"Where! Have! You! Been!"

Alex nearly fell out of bed in shock. She bolted upright, regretting it immediately as her head started pounding and her mind seemed to go all fuzzy for a moment.

Now that she was awake she recalled having read somewhere that sleeping after a concussion was not necessarily a good thing. She looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning, which meant that she'd slept about three hours. Apparently in her case, sleeping after a concussion was not a necessarily bad thing either.

Charlie was standing in the doorway, looking furious. "Do you know that I've waited up for you until three o'clock last night? And just five minutes ago one of my deputies calls saying that he saw a woman who looked like you being carried away from the scene of a murder last night." Alex swallowed, feeling guilty. Maybe she should have woken Charlie to tell him she was home rather than sneaking into her room, closing the door and leaving no sign that she'd ever come back at all. "I thought you were dead! And then I come up here and you're lying in bed with a black and blue lump the size of a grapefruit on your jaw."

"That… was an accident. I tripped and hit a post," Alex said, touching the tender area with her fingertips. Somehow she thought it wasn't wise to tell Charlie the truth at the moment. Jacob had told her that the material of a bullet made no difference, but she was sure he wouldn't appreciate it if Charlie went after him with a shotgun for knocking his niece out.

Her heart started pounding faster and warmth spread in her chest as the realization hit her that for the first time someone actually was worried about her. Someone cared.

"What happened last night?"

"I was out with a friend. We were in Tillicum Park, but none of us noticed anything so you don't have to ask. I hit my head and my friend carried me to his place to make sure I was all right." Thank God she was a good liar.

Charlie sighed deeply. "In the future, no matter how late, please inform me when you come home. Or at least leave a note." Alex stared at him in surprise.

"What? No curfew?"

"Not on the weekends. It's not like you're going to stick to the rules anyway," he said, smiling. "You promise?"

"I promise."

"Good," Charlie said, giving her an approving nod. He disappeared for a moment before returning with some sort of ointment. "This'll help against the swelling."

"Thank you," Alex said, taking the unlabeled tube from him.

"There's ibuprofen downstairs in the kitchen if you need any." Like he was reading her mind! "I'll probably be out late. Sundays count as school nights, so you better be home when I get back," he warned and left her room.

With a groan Alex fell back onto her pillow, still not bothering to change into her pajamas. Three hours sleep weren't nearly enough after a night like that.

The next time she woke up it was to the ring of the doorbell. Looking at the clock she saw that it was already three o'clock in the afternoon.

"Damn," she hissed, quickly scrambling out of her bed and hurrying down to get the door. "We really should have agreed on a time. Then I could have set the alarm," she said when she'd opened the door and Jacob was standing there.

"You've been sleeping until now?"

"Hey, it's not my fault that I have a mild concussion," she snapped at him.

"I already said I'm sorry."

"No, you said that you didn't want to hurt me," she corrected Jacob.

"Well, I'm sorry then. I didn't mean to knock you unconscious." It didn't really sound very sincere, because he couldn't stop grinning. But neither could she. It was extremely easy to be happy around Jacob. "Are you coming then?"

"Just a sec," Alex said, dashing upstairs to try to tame her messy mane – with moderate success – and then back down into the kitchen. She wasn't going to survive this day without some pain medication. She dry-swallowed two ibuprofen and decided it wouldn't hurt to take the rest of the pills with her, stuffing them into her huge, black purse.

Jacob was still standing by the door, leaning against the frame in a way that displayed his gorgeous physique. Alex had to swallow at the sight. He wore a black t-shirt, but it fit so snuggly it looked painted on and as he turned around to head to his car she was definitely enjoying what the jeans were doing to his backside. _Thank God he's not a psychopath_, she thought. _Yeah, just a werewolf_.

Like the other night, the drive to La Push was silent. Though Alex hadn't been able to see the road clearly in the darkness, she was pretty sure they weren't driving to his house.

"We're not going to your place?"

"My dad's home. I don't want him involved in this," Jacob explained. "The less he knows the better." The less worrying his father would have to suffer, she realized.

"So where _are_ you taking me?"

"I thought you might enjoy a day at the beach. It's nice enough weather." He smiled at her and she had to smile back.

First Beach was not exactly the sort of beach she'd seen on the covers of travel magazines; no white sand, no palm trees or bright blue water. Instead it was rugged and wild, most of the beach covered in pebbles and small rocks, with the exception of a thin strip of sand close to the dark gray water's edge. White washed driftwood littered the beach and sea gulls soared overhead. In front of them the cold, gray ocean stretched endlessly, James Island rising out of it majestically just off shore. Behind them was the thick forest and in the distance she could see the white-tipped mountains rising high above them. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

They found a bleached tree that had been washed far up on the shore in a storm and sat down, remaining silent for a while longer.

"May I ask you a question?" Alex looked up at Jacob. He was staring out at the sea.

"Be my guest," she said.

"Why did you believe what I told you?"

"Because I saw the demon and you had no logical reason to lie to me."

"That's it?"

"I'm an uncomplicated sort of person. Most of the time anyway. Now," she said business-like. "I need some information."

"What do you know already?"

"Three victims – four, I guess, after last night – all with their throats torn out. I've been to the scene of the second killing – but you know that, you were there at the same time – and found the pentagram. At first I thought it was irrelevant, but then I experimented with Charlie's map a little and found that the places formed the first three points of a pentagram. And then we met in the park so you know the rest."

"What made you think it was a werewolf?" Jacob wanted to know. He was smirking, obviously enjoying the irony.

"It was Gillian's idea actually. I didn't believe it at first until Sue and Charlie started acting all weird when I mentioned it. Gillian had told me about the killings last year and how everyone believed it to be bears or wolves. She believed it was werewolves. She even came across Quileute legends during research," Alex said.

"Then she has been very thorough."

"What are these legends about?" Alex asked.

"I'll tell you another time, okay?"

"Fine. Anyway, I had my doubts, but I've learned that no theory is crazy enough until proven wrong. It was as likely as anything else and, all things considered, maybe even more so. But the blood traces at the murder sight just didn't fit. It didn't look like what I would have expected, but all I ever had to go on was Hollywood horror movies, so…" She shrugged, smiling at Jacob.

"The bloodstains probably didn't fit, because the demon sucked its victims dry."

"There was never any mention of that," Alex said. She'd read the newspaper articles carefully so she was pretty certain that that little detail of the blood being drained had been withheld. "If I'd known that I probably would have been on the hunt for a vampire rather than a werewolf."

"Charlie didn't want to scare people more than necessary. Even without it being something supernatural, a serial killer draining the blood of his victims sounds a lot more horrifying than just slicing their throats," Jacob argued.

"Not that the result is much different." Alex took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was coming next. "So… it's your turn to talk."

"First off, everything I know is kind of second-hand. One of the Cullens…" Alex could see his fists clenching as he forced out the name. "Carlisle was the son of an Anglican pastor sometime in the seventeenth century. His father led many hunts for alleged werewolves, vampires, witches and, of course, demons. Carlisle never actually faced a demon himself, but he does know a lot about them." She noticed that, while disliking the Cullens in general, there was a certain amount of respect in Jacob's voice when talking about Carlisle. She wondered what the vampire had done to get into Jacob's good books.

"So technically all the information you have is not just second, but third-hand and Carlisle can only tell you what humans _believe_ to know about demons." That didn't actually sound as promising as she'd hoped.

"Carlisle's always been very reliable. I think he knows what he's talking about."

"Yeah, but look what people believe about vampires and werewolves."

"You can still get out," Jacob offered.

"And let you have all the fun? I don't think so." There was no way she was ending this here and now. She was in it too deep and she'd never let Jacob have to deal with this completely alone. "So, how do we catch this demon?"

"_We_ don't. I do."

"Then what do you need me for?" She decided not to argue with him now, but she had no intention of sitting on the sidelines while he was off fighting the demon.

"There is someone who's calling the demon. I can use your help finding out who it is." That sounded boring, but she supposed it made sense to go to the source. She turned sideways, facing Jacob and crossing her legs, balancing on the trunk of the dead tree. He did the same facing her.

"How come you're so sure it's just one person and not a whole cult?"

"Focused desire is a large part of what pulls the demon through and most groups just can't achieve the necessary single-mindedness." He shrugged. "Given the success rate, the odds are good it's just one person."

"Then I guess we should stick with the odds." Alex mirrored his shrug. "Any distinguishing characteristics to look out for?"

"If you're asking does a certain type of person call up demons, no. Well," he frowned as he reconsidered, "I suppose in a way, yes. They're people looking for an easy answer, a way to get what they want without having to work for it."

"Which basically just described the life of millions of people," Alex stated dryly. "You'll have to try to be a little more specific."

"The demon is asked for material goods; it wouldn't kill if it remained trapped in the pentagram answering questions. So whoever is calling the demon has only recently acquired large amounts of wealth; money, cars, clothes. Demons can't create so all that has to come from somewhere." Not every bit of cash in existence was marked by the police, but luxury cars, jewels and stocks were all traceable.

"Now that's good news. Charlie can't arrest someone for calling demons, but he can arrest someone for robbery."

"And murder," Jacob added. "The more contact this person has with the demon, the more unstable he or she is going to get. Whoever it is still believes he's in control."

"So, if the human is not calling the shots… What does the demon want?"

"The demon from last night isn't very powerful."

Alex snorted. "You might be able to rip a person's throat out with a single blow…" She paused and Jacob nodded, answering the not-quite-asked question. "… but no one else I know could. This demon is plenty powerful enough."

"Not as demons go," Jacob replied, looking like he was getting to the uncomfortable part. "It's a minor demon. Its job is to open a door to bring a much more powerful Demon Lord – its true master – through. Once the pentagram is complete all it takes is one more sacrifice to open that door." For a minute or two Alex forgot how to breathe.

"Are…" she swallowed hard as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. "Are you sure about this?"

"Carlisle is and, like I said, he's reliable."

"Great! And what, pray tell, happens at that Demon Lord's coming-out party?"

Jacob hesitated, looking at her with an expression as if he was announcing the apocalypse. "That's when all hell breaks loose."

* * *

**Annnd cut! **

**I will leave you on this very ominous revelation for now. Leave me lots of reviews and you'll find out whether the Twilight World goes down in chaos and pandemonium.**


	7. Reports

Chapter 07: Reports

"So, for those of us who skipped Demonology one-oh-one, define '_all hell breaks loose_'." It had taken a moment for Alex to recover her composure after Jacob's announcement.

"Pure evil unleashed on earth." She only just managed to keep herself from sighing in frustration. He needed to be a little more specific.

"Like what? Wars?"

"Of biblical proportions. Death, pestilence and despair ruling for a thousand years," Jacob answered. "Most will become corrupt and fall to the dark. Those who don't will die horribly."

"You know, don't go paint it all rosy-colored just for my benefit," she said sarcastically.

"I'm only telling you what Carlisle's told me," he defended himself. "Demons have escaped in the past though." He got up and she followed him.

"Why haven't I heard of this?"

"You've heard of their work; the slave trade, the Black Death, Stalin's atrocities in Russia – to name the few Carlisle's mentioned." They were strolling along the beach, just out of reach of the waves. To an outsider they would look like friends or maybe a couple, not like they were discussing the end of the world as they knew it.

"Okay, so if we stop the one calling the demon we also stop the demon?" Alex wanted to know. There had been four killings so far. The demon only needed one more to finish the pentagram and then all it took was one last sacrifice. They were running out of time.

"If we get to it in time. I'll ask Charlie about giving us access to robbery case files. Maybe we can find something there. Meanwhile, we know where the demon will strike next. I'll be there tonight and every other night until it appears," Jacob explained his plan.

"You didn't exactly manage to stop it last night," Alex reminded him.

Jacob snorted displeased. "It was so fast I could hardly see it. But now I have a better idea of what I'm up against."

"If you say so," Alex said, not entirely convinced. "Listen, if you already pull all-nighters let me go through the files so you can get some rest."

"If you don't mind." He looked at her appreciatively.

"But I'll have to do it at your place," Alex said. When Jacob pulled up an eyebrow in question, she explained, "I don't want Charlie to know I'm helping you. He'll just send me back to Detroit."

"Just for curiosity's sake, why are you here anyway?"

"You mean you don't know? I would have thought the whole area would be in on it." Alex was actually surprised to hear this.

"They probably are. I just… There were other things on my mind." He looked away, but she could see the pain in his face again.

_Bella_, she thought. Her cousin had really pulled a number on him.

"My mother is an addict. Every once in a while she gets busted for drug abuse or things women do for drugs," Alex said, trying to play it down with a casual shrug. "During those times I stay with some family members or friends. Sometimes I have to stay at an orphanage. I guess it's just Charlie's turn." She was looking down at her hands so Jacob wouldn't see the tears that were threatening to fall. She didn't know him enough to tell him her whole story; like how she'd grown up practically without any parental guidance, how she always cleaned up after her mother when she was high or sick from the drugs, how she'd had two waitress-jobs after school to get enough money for food and paying the bills because her mother was never in a state to work, how she herself had police records for car theft and underage drinking, how she always felt so alone.

She gasped in shock when she suddenly felt two strong, warm arms around her, pressing her to a hard chest. She'd failed at keeping the tears back and Jacob was trying to comfort her. For a moment Alex considered pushing him away, he was a stranger and someone she had believed to be a killer, but the warmth of his embrace was soothing and she felt safe in his arms.

And she told him, while he held her, how bad it was on some days when Alex would come home after the long hours of school and work to find her mother passed out on the floor in a puddle of her own puke. "The worst part is," she sobbed, "sometimes I wish she'd just die. What kind of daughter wants her mother to die?"

Jacob said nothing through it all and she was grateful that he didn't try to pretend like he knew what she was going through. After a while Alex finally managed to stop the tears from coming and she pulled away from him, instantly feeling the loss of his warmth.

"Thank you," she mumbled, now embarrassed that he'd seen her break down like that.

"Alex, have you ever considered… _not_ going back?" he asked.

"I can't do that," she said, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater. "She really would die without me."

"Couldn't someone else help her?" Jacob asked. "I mean, it's just… it's not good for you, having to take care of her and all."

"They'd put her in rehab. She's been there a few times, too." Alex had liked the times shortly after her mother had been released. For a week or two Miranda had been able to remain clean and they'd had some good times then. But it would always start up again. First it was alcohol, starting with beer and moving on to the harder liquors within a few days. When the alcohol wasn't enough to keep away whatever it was Miranda was running from, she'd turn to drugs again.

"What about your father?"

"I've never met him. Don't even know his name. In his defense, he probably doesn't even know he has a daughter. He was probably one of my mother's dealers. Sometimes she doesn't have money for the drugs, so she pays for them in other ways."

Jacob bit his lower lip, looking very uncomfortable. "Have any of them… Have they ever… you know…"

"Oh." She finally understood what he meant. "No, they've never touched me. Not that they haven't tried once or twice, but I know my self-defense."

He exhaled deeply in relief and Alex was stunned to realize that he really was worried. She was touched by his concern. She supposed he was a good example of how first impressions weren't always the right ones. They'd come a long way from suspicions to a partnership, maybe even the start of a friendship. _And all in barely more than twelve hours_, she thought. Yesterday already seemed like a lifetime ago. Now she was searching for a demon with the help of a werewolf. _Now that would be a book that would write itself_.

Jacob drove her home again and together they ate the left-over lasagna that Sue had made. It was fascinating to see just how much food disappeared into Jacob's stomach and she remembered having been just as astounded watching Seth and Leah eat.

"They're werewolves, too, aren't they? Seth and Leah?" He swallowed the mouthful of lasagna and nodded. "Who else?"

"We've got two packs, actually. Seth and Leah are in my pack, along with Quil Ateara and Embry Call."

"Quil and Embry?" She had to grin at the unusual names.

"Yeah, Quil's a hand-me-down name and Embry was probably named after a soap opera star," Jacob explained, grinning, too. "But I suggest you don't make fun of them. They gang up on people making fun of their names. You can meet them if you want to. There's a bonfire the weekend after next."

"Sounds great. Let's hope the demon is taken care of by then." Again he only nodded, having his mouth full again.

"My dad's probably going to tell the old legends again," Jacob frowned like he thought she wouldn't be interested in that.

"I wanted to hear them," Alex reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. I just would have given you the shortened version. The long one is… well, long." She had to laugh at that.

"I wouldn't have guessed," she quipped. "But I want to hear the long version. It's not every day that you meet werewolves."

"Speak for yourself," he said with a smile.

She was about to reply when her cell phone rang. Gillian.

"Hey," Alex said.

"Alex, what happened last night? You just call, asking about pentagrams and then you just hang up. What's going on?"

"Oh, that." She'd forgotten all about Gillian. "That was nothing. I was just… curious."

"You found something, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't found anything. I told you I'd tell you the moment I have a new lead," Alex said.

"You found the werewolf!" Gillian insisted.

"Gill, I can honestly tell you it's not a werewolf," Alex replied, looking over at Jacob, who was smirking again.

"You're just as bad as the police," Gillian said angrily. "Look, I threw the I Ching, consulted my spiritualist. How much more proof do you need? I know a werewolf killed Aaron and so do you."

"Gillian–"

"If you won't help me prove it I'll do it myself." The line went dead.

"Damn," Alex muttered.

"Is she for real? I Ching?" Jacob was laughing.

"Yeah, well, she likes all that occult stuff," Alex said, rubbing her palms over her face in exhaustion. It was all just too much. This weekend had been very stressful. "Now I have to spend Monday trying to keep her from investigating all of this more closely."

* * *

A group of High School students passed Irving as he walked down the main highway. They were after a girl. A pretty girl, he realized. She was dressed in black Gothic clothes. Her hair was dark brown, long and straight and her eyes were big and bright blue.

"Hey Gill, seen any werewolves lately?" One of the boys from the group of students called to the girl. Gill. He liked that name. Somewhere in the deepest corners of his mind he took notice of the fact that she was probably nearly ten years younger than him, a minor and that he shouldn't be attracted to her, but that thought never even reached his conscious mind.

She believed in werewolves. That must mean she believed in other supernatural things as well. His heart sped up. Finally someone who would understand him, someone who would revel with him in his discoveries.

"I don't have time for this," the girl said. She looked angry. The group of students went on down the street, laughing. And so did she. Without even noticing Irving. But he'd noticed her; her pale, smooth skin, her hips that swayed from side to side as she walked. He wanted her. He wanted her and he would get her.

* * *

Frustrated Alex came home after school on Monday. Nothing had gone right today. Gillian had ignored her and soccer practice had been cancelled because the Coach had come down with the flu. Since she'd told Sue that she wouldn't need a pick-up, Alex had had to walk the two miles home in an epic downpour that drenched her down to her bones. And the day wouldn't get much better. Jacob had told her he'd pick her up around four thirty, so she still had enough time to do some of her homework. He'd called Charlie last night and told him that he needed robbery case files, which Charlie had brought to Jacob's place after work.

Alex just finished her essay for English when the doorbell rang. She got up and went downstairs to open the door for Jacob. She supposed it was nice of him to actually come to the door as opposed to staying in the car and honking like most boys seemed to do.

"So how much files are we talking about?" Alex asked when they both sat in the car.

"I've got eleven boxes at home. All reports of thieveries in Forks and area, including Port Angeles, for the last two weeks. And if we don't find anything Charlie said he has at least another eleven boxes."

Alex groaned. "Why can't I do the nighttime stakeouts and you do the paper work?"

"Because I'm a werewolf."

"Lousy excuse," she grumbled and he laughed. Alex turned towards Jacob and saw that he looked extremely tired. There were dark rings under his eyes and he was blinking a lot as if he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. "You're not about to drive us into a ditch, are you?"

"What? No, don't worry. I'm fine, but I am going to have to lie down a bit," he said, emphasizing his words with a wide yawn.

"You do that. I think I'll be able to deal with the reports on my own."

"My dad's there, but he'll probably leave you alone. My sister's over at her boyfriend's place. If they do come over, her boyfriend, Paul, is also a werewolf and a member of the other pack. If he snoops around come and wake me so I can throw him out. I don't want the others to know about any of this." Alex nodded, appreciating the heads-up.

They arrived at his house and were greeted by Billy. Charlie had told Alex a bit about his best friend so the wheelchair didn't surprise her. He was a very nice man and kept her silent company, whittling as she went through the reports, getting her coffee twice. Jacob had gone straight to bed and even four hours later he hadn't returned.

At first she'd made extremely slow progress, reading every report carefully, but after a while she'd found a good scanning system. She only needed the files about luxurious stolen objects. Once she'd found a report that seemed to fit she picked out the ones that sounded kind of hinky.

By nighttime she'd gone through most of the boxes, Billy had gone to his room and she could hear the door to Jacob's room opening and closing. He came down the hall and into the living room, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Good evening, Sleeping Beauty," Alex greeted him, grinning. He wasn't wearing a shirt and she was enjoying the view immensely.

"Hey, I've been up all of last night and I will have to do the same thing again tonight," he defended himself, leaning forward to read the report she was going through over her shoulder. She couldn't help but notice that he smelled of crushed pine needles and salty ocean breezes, mixed with a musky, very masculine scent that was all Jacob.

"Well, I've found a few cases that might be interesting for us," Alex said. "Stuff stolen from a locked room," she handed him a file. "A Porsche taken from a showroom full of people. Cash taken from a bank vault that had a time lock." She handed him two more folders.

"Child's play for a demon," Jacob said, scanning the reports.

"I don't think the locations are going to do us much good. Most of them have happened outside of Forks, not that any of these things could have been found here anyway."

"No, probably not," Jacob agreed. "But I think these are definitely related to the demon," he said holding up the files. "I'll give these back to Charlie and ask him to see if he can track down any of these stolen goods. The car should be easy enough."

"Maybe. But we might have to deal with this being a dead end."

"It was worth a shot. Come on, I'll drive you home and then I have to go."

* * *

**Okay, so please review and tell me how you liked this chapter. I know, not a lot of excitement in this one yet, but you gotta get the information together. The next few chapters will be a lot more interesting, I promise. The more reviews I get the faster I upload, no reviews no uploads. So it's all up to you guys.**

**And while you're reviewing you can help me out a bit. I'm intending the write a Short Story Collection of Jake and Alex's life together. So if you have any ideas of certain events or situations I could write about or you would like to read about, please tell me. Anything from High School life to married life with children. I'd really appreciate the help. I've already got some stories together, but I'd like some more ideas.**


	8. Fight

**Chapter 08: Fight**

The week passed in much the same way Monday had. Alex couldn't get near Gillian, who felt betrayed. If only she knew why Alex couldn't tell her anything. She suddenly understood why Bella had had so few human friends. It was difficult to be around normal people when you had such heavy secrets weighing you down.

Jacob had patrolled the area where the next murder was supposed to happen every night and each time she saw him he looked even more exhausted. He was still doing the normal patrols with his pack in the afternoons after school along with everything else. Billy had told her that Jacob had been suspended from school for two days because he kept sleeping in class. At least that way he had gotten a few more hours of rest.

Alex had gone through a few more reports, but there hadn't been anything that would have given them a new lead. All they knew was that the person calling the demon would have to live somewhere in the center of the pentagram so they had been able to narrow it down to one neighborhood and Charlie had made a list of residents for Jacob. They'd crossed off anyone under the age of sixteen, because anyone younger would have no use for a Porsche. But that still left them with a considerably long list.

They had hoped that the Porsche would be easy enough to pin, but whoever had it now didn't drive around with it much. Either they kept it in a garage or maybe not even in Forks. They'd underlined all the residents who had some sort of connection – relatives, vacation rentals or second homes – to another town or city nearby where the Porsche might be hidden.

Alex was glad it was Friday. With Billy's help they had gotten Charlie out of the house for an overnight fishing trip so Alex could join Jacob on his stakeout tonight without worrying Charlie. Jacob hadn't liked the idea of Alex coming along, but she'd nagged him for hours until he finally gave up. She couldn't sleep well anymore anyway. She was always lying in bed, convincing herself that the rumble of a distant truck was not the tread of a thousand clawed feet and that a high-pitched keening was only a siren. The sooner all this was over the better for everyone.

* * *

Irving was furious. He was furious with himself for being too chicken to talk to Gill. He'd followed her around Forks. He knew where she lived, where she went to school, where she hung out afterwards. His desire for her was growing daily, but still he couldn't find the courage to approach her. He was furious with her, too. After a week of following her everywhere she still hadn't noticed him.

He opened the window again and covered the door with the afghan. Then he went to the closet for the hibachi he'd stored there.

The tiny barbeque he set up as close as he could to the fan. He built a pyramid of three charcoal briquettes, soaked them in starter fluid and dropped in a match. The fan and the cold winds from outside took care of almost all the smoke and, as he'd disconnected all smoke detectors in the house, he didn't worry about the small amount of smoke that remained. He let the fire burn down while he got out the colored chalks to draw the pentagram.

No-wax tile flooring doesn't hold chalk well, so Irving actually used chalk pastels. It didn't seem to make a difference. At each of the five corners of the pentagram, he set two candles; a black one nine inches high, and a red one six inches high. He'd had to cut them both down from twelves and eights and had discovered that a few of the blacks were actually dark purple. That hadn't seemed to matter either.

Candles lit, he knelt before the now glowing coals and began the steps to call the demon.

He'd bought six inches of the eighteen karat gold chain at a store in Port Angeles. With a pair of nail scissors, he clipped off three or four links and let them fall into the glowing red heart of the charcoal briquettes. Irving knew that the hibachi couldn't possibly deliver enough heat to melt even that little bit of gold but, although he sifted the remaining ash every time, there was never an answering gleam of metal.

The frankincense came from a trendy food store all the way in Seattle. He had no idea what other people used the bright orange flakes for – he couldn't imagine eating them although he supposed they might be a spice. The half handful he threw on the heat ignited slowly, creating a thick, pungent smoke that the fan almost managed to deal with.

Coughing and rubbing the back of one hand across watering eyes, he reached for the last ingredient. The myrrh had come from a shop specializing in essence oils and the creation of personal, signature perfumes. Ounce for ounce it had been more expensive than the gold. Carefully, using the plastic measuring set his mother had given him when he moved out, he dribbled an eighth of a teaspoon over the coals.

The heavy scent of frankincense grew heavier still and the air in his apartment picked up a bitter taste that coated the inside of Irving's mouth and nose. The first night he'd tried this, he'd almost stopped with the myrrh, had almost been unable to get past the weight of history that came with it. For centuries myrrh had been used to treat the dead, and all those centuries of death were released every time the oil poured over the coals. By the second time, he could shrug aside the dead with the knowledge of worse to come. By this, the fifth calling, it no longer distracted him from the task at hand.

The sterile pins, identical to the ones the Red Cross used to take the initial drops of blood from donors, he'd gotten at the hospital. Usually he hated this part, but tonight his rage drew him through it without pause.

Three drops of blood onto the coals and as each drop fell, a word of calling.

The words along with the setup of the ritual he'd found in the ancient book. He'd liked the look of it when he'd found it on a flea market, only later he had realized that it was a grimoire, a book of demon lore. The previous owner had seemed relieved to be rid of it. Idiot.

The air over the center of the pentagram shivered and changed as though something were forcing it aside from within. Irving stood and waited, scowling, as the smell of the burning spices gave way to a fetid odor of rot.

Irving flinched slightly at the sight of the familiar shape that seemed to rise out of the ground. He stepped to the very edge of the pentagram, careful not to cross the line.

"Master," the demon said, bowing its head, never taking its yellow eyes off him.

"There is a girl. I want her to love me," Irving said. "Can you do that?"

The demon remained silent for a moment, its eyes scanning the edges of the pentagram. "No."

"What do you mean no?" He stepped forward in anger and, remembering just in time, twisted his foot at an awkward angle to avoid crossing the pentagram.

The demon's answering lunge brought them almost nose to nose. Irving staggered back and the demon settled back into the center of its prison. "Don't have power of love," it said as if nothing had happened. "You need Demon Lord."

"And how do I call up this Demon Lord," Irving asked.

"Finish marking the doorway in blood. Then one more sacrifice here in center."

"And he will serve me?"

"Yes."

Irving grinned smugly. He didn't care how much blood would have to be spilled. He wanted her. _No more Mister Nice-Guy_.

* * *

After picking Alex up, Jacob drove on to the place where the demon would have to strike next to finish the pentagram. He was uncomfortably aware that this was their last chance to stop the demon. They still didn't know who was calling it.

"You think it might attack tonight?" Alex asked and he could see the shiver that was running through her body.

"It'll attack the next time it's called. I don't know if it will be tonight." He hoped it wasn't. He'd grudgingly agreed to let her come along, but he didn't feel good about it. He didn't want to have to explain to Charlie that his niece was killed by a demon.

"Listen, I know you don't want me here, but I promise if the demon comes I'll try to stay out of the fight."

"You'll _try_?" He looked over at her, unable to keep himself from smirking.

"Well… if it looks like you might lose… I'm not saying I could beat the demon… I could give you an edge, distract it…. Maybe." She was chewing on her bottom lip and he could hear her heart racing with anxiety.

"Maybe," he agreed, hoping it wouldn't have to come to that.

He parked his car and they got out, strolling through the streets of the neighborhood.

Suddenly Alex stopped and when Jacob turned towards her he saw that she looked terrified. "What's stopping this thing from showing up inside someone's house? Where you can't see it? Where you can't stop it?" she asked, looking around at all the homes. Most windows were dark, only a few were still illuminated.

"Demons," Jacob told her, smiling reassuringly, "are unable to enter a person's home unless expressly invited."

"I thought that referred to vampires?"

With one hand in the small of her back, Jacob moved her along firmly. "Wishful thinking."

They walked along the streets side by side in a steady pace. Despite his worries, Jacob was glad that Alex was here. She was a smart girl and their conversations were never boring. When he'd talked to Bella there had often been times when he'd done all the talking and she'd just said enough to keep him going. He knew that she'd liked it that way, but sometimes he'd been annoyed about the one-sided conversations. Alex, on the other hand, had an opinion to everything and it didn't always match his own, which ended in small arguments and a lot of bantering. She had a lot in common with him and they could spend a lot of time talking about books and movies they both liked or Jacob could tell her about cars. Alex loved cars, Old-timers in particular. She'd never been able to get much practice in car mechanics aside from hot-wiring them, but she knew her theory well.

He realized that with Bella, aside from school and supernatural things, there had never been much to talk about. They read different kinds of books, she preferred love stories, he liked crime and adventure. It was much the same way with movies. Bella had seen _Crosshairs_ with him, but that had been during the time Edward had left her and she couldn't stomach seeing any happy couples on screen.

"You miss her." Jacob looked at Alex in confusion over her statement. "My cousin. Sometimes you get that far off look and you're obviously hurting. It's her you're thinking about."

There was no point denying it, she hadn't asked a question. "Yes."

"You still try to fight even though you know you've already lost." Jacob swallowed hard, his stomach clenching painfully. "It's better to just let go."

"And what the hell do you know about that?" Jacob said angrily, only just managing to keep from yelling at her. He felt like his heart had been torn out of him and she was poking in the wound.

"I know what it feels like." Her words and the calmness of her voice wiped the anger away as quickly as it had come.

He was about to ask how she knew when a scream echoed through the night. Both of them whipped around, facing in the direction the scream had come from. "Go on ahead, I'll catch up," Alex said and Jacob raced ahead to get to the demon before it could escape again. He was probably already too late to save the victim.

Like at Tillicum Park Jacob found the demon bent over a human, its long talons holding on tightly to the twitching body. The boy, probably no older than fifteen, wasn't quite dead yet, but past saving.

The demon looked up, its yellow eyes fixed on Jacob. Again he had to fight the rising panic that tried to disable him. Ignoring it as best he could he launched himself at the demon. With a strangled kind of hiss the demon dropped the boy's now lifeless body.

The demon moved so fast Jacob had his difficulties keeping up with it. He landed a few hits, but the pliant surface of the demon absorbed every blow and simply reformed. Jacob had to dodge the six-inch talons on the demon's feet and hands.

A blow from the demon sent Jacob flying back into a tree which splintered with a loud crack, knocking the wind out of him. He scrambled back onto his feet, ignoring his aching back, but the demon was already there, opening Jacob's arm below the elbow.

Biting back a scream, Jacob staggered back before charging again. He couldn't let the demon get away. The talons swiped at his chest, leaving four deep cuts. Jacob fell back, hitting the ground hard.

"Jake!" He saw Alex running towards him and the demon, her flashlight held over her head like a weapon. She ran at the demon, but was thrown back before she could land a hit. But her distraction had given Jacob the time to get back on his feet. The cuts on his chest and elbow burned like fire and blood was running down his chest, soaking the waistband of his jeans.

He managed to grab hold of one of the demon's wings, tearing the membrane. The demon hissed in pain and took another swipe at Jacob, catching his shoulder, slicing through flesh and scraping against bone.

* * *

Alex looked up from the floor just in time to see Jacob go down a second time, covered in blood. The demon became a mass of swirling darkness and sank into the ground.

"Jake!" She got to her feet and hurried over to him. "Oh God, no, please be okay," she muttered, fear making it hard to breathe as she looked over the deep cuts across his chest and on his shoulder. There was so much blood.

He wasn't moving, but he wasn't dead, she knew that. The dead have a posture the living are unable to imitate. She pressed her fingers against the damp skin of Jacob's throat. His pulse was slightly slower than it should be and his temperature felt even higher than usual.

"Is this normal? How the hell am I supposed to know what is normal for you?" She felt the tears running down her face and quickly wiped them away. She straightened out his arms and legs, noticing that, miraculously, no bones seemed to be broken. His eyes had rolled back, and he was completely unresponsive. He was in shock. She looked at his cuts again, not healing and still bleeding profusely. He was dying, she realized.

The distant slamming of a door reminded her of where they were. It was only a matter of moments before the police would show up. She needed to get Jacob out of here. With all her might she dragged him to the car, panting and sweating with the effort of moving his heavy body.

Not knowing where else to go, Alex drove to La Push, keeping the car at a constant twenty-five miles above the speed limit. When she reached Jacob's house she gave herself a second of thanking God that no cop had stopped her. It would have been awfully difficult to explain the speed and the dying boy on the backseat of the car – particularly because she was driving _away_ from the hospital.

She somehow managed to drag him inside, heave him onto the couch and get towels from the bathroom to keep the blood from staining the pillows, before collapsing onto the floor from exhaustion. "You owe me," she gasped, still panting heavily. "You owe me big time."

After a few minutes, once she managed to catch her breath, she got up again and rummaged through the kitchen. Finding a washcloth and filling a bowl with warm water, Alex went back to Jacob, sat on the floor next to him and began washing the drying blood off his chest and arm. The cuts had stopped bleeding and she hoped that meant that he was healing.

Getting up again she went into the bathroom where she found gauze swabs and antiseptic. She took it back to her place beside Jacob, soaked a swab in the alcoholic fluid and began dabbing at the deep cuts and the other abrasions that had surfaced under the blood, glad that he was still out, because the antiseptic probably burned like hell. She didn't know much about demons and she preferred not to now specifically what else they came into contact with, but the claws had definitely been filthy with dirt and old blood from its victims. She didn't want him to die of blood poisoning or for the wounds to not heal properly due to infection.

It was all as good as over. All the demon now needed was a final sacrifice, then the door would open and they would all be doomed…

* * *

**As promised, this chapter was a lot more exciting than the previous ones. The next chapter is actually my favorite of the ones I've written. It might be a while before I update again since I'll be going home to my family for a month in about a week. If you guys all review and I have enough reviews by the end of next week, I might be able to upload the next chapter before I leave. _NOTHING UNDER FIVE REVIEWS, PREFERABLY MORE_. And yes, this is blackmail. Sue me. ^^**

**And I'm still looking for ideas to my Short Story collection, so if you've got any, you can put them in your reviews or message me. Thanks.**


	9. Answer

**Alright, as promised, one more chapter before I leave. I'll be gone for about a month, visiting my family, so that'll give you plenty of time to review. And there better be a lot of reviews when I get back, because this is my favorite chapter in Blood Symbol and I _will_ make you wait for the next chapter an extra month if I don't get the proper response to this one.**

**Chapter 09: Answer**

The sound of a knock on the door pulled Alex out of her sleep. She groaned as her back ached. She'd fallen asleep still sitting on the floor, her head resting on the couch next to Jacob. There was probably also considerable bruising from when the demon had swiped at her and she'd landed on the hard asphalt. It had definitely managed to knock the wind out of her.

It knocked again. "Damn!" Alex glanced from a still unconscious Jacob to the door and then to the clock that showed her it was only eight in the morning. It didn't sound like the police – a police knock was unmistakable – but ignoring it might still be the worst thing to do. If someone had seen Jacob and her with the demon last night…

She got up and crept to the door. The fisheye showed the distorted view of a tall, muscled young man. As she watched, he raised his hand and knocked again.

"Come on, Jake, I know you're there. I can hear you moving around," the boy on the other side of the door said. Another werewolf apparently.

Alex bit her lower lip. Jacob didn't want anyone from his pack to know about the demon situation, but how would she explain the injuries if she let this guy in? She couldn't. She had to get rid of him. There was really only one thing she could do.

"Finally, I thought you were gonna–" As Alex opened the door after a few minutes the boy's mouth dropped as he stared at the tousle-haired woman who gazed sleepily out at him, a man's bathrobe more or less clutched around her.

Alex filled the space between the door and the molding, leaning against both and hoping that her body was enough to hide the scenario inside. Just to be on the safe side, she let the upper edge of the bathrobe slide a little lower. She wasn't intending to blind the boy with her beauty, but the action could have two desirable outcomes: either he was a very hormonal teenager and his eyes would be glued to her generous cleavage or this was the kind of situation that would embarrass him most. In the case of this young man, it seemed to be a bit of both.

So maybe it was a stupid idea. It was also the only thing she could come up with.

"Can I help you?" she asked, covering a not entirely faked yawn.

"Um, no, I, that is… Is Jacob Black home?"

"He is." Alex smiled and pushed a strand of her curls behind her ear. The robe shifted a little further of its own volition. "He's kind of…" She paused just long enough for the boy's ears to finish turning scarlet. "…tied up right now."

"Oh," the boy said breathlessly, swallowing hard. Alex was starting to hate herself for this, even if it was a little bit of fun. It wasn't like the thought of seducing Jacob had never occurred to her. He was – and there really was no better word for it – hot.

He wouldn't be the first guy she'd had a meaningless fling with, but while she might be able to handle it, she knew that he would not. One of the first things she'd noticed about Jacob – once she'd gotten passed the idea that he was a serial killer – was that he wasn't the sort of person who had casual sex. He was a relationship-kind of guy. Not to mention he was still hung up on Bella. She liked him too much to hurt him like that.

"I… I'm so sorry I bothered you," the boy said and he seemed to genuinely mean it. "We were, er… scheduled to meet." So Jacob should actually be on patrol right now. "Um, could you tell him to give me a call when he's fin… later." Again his ears turned bright red.

"Name?"

"Embry." He made a move to shake her hand, but thought better of it, his eyes slipping from the ground at his feet to her barely covered chest and back.

"I'll let him know."

"Thanks." He stood there a little awkwardly, then seemed to snap out of it and without looking up at her again said, "Have a good day then."

"You too." Alex sagged against the inside of the door once it was shut, her knees feeling weak. That had been too close. Looking up she saw Jacob looking back at her, a wolfish grin on his face. "How long have you been up?"

"Long enough," he smirked. "For future reference; _I_ won't be the one tied up." The way he'd said that, with his eyes roaming over her, made an electric shiver run down her spine. But he was just messing around so she decided not to take the bait.

"What else could I have said? '_Yeah, Jake can't get to the door right now, because a demon nearly killed him last night_'?" She sat down on the edge of the coffee table and inspected his cuts. They didn't look quite as bad anymore, but they were far from being healed.

"No, I thought it was a pretty nice idea. Of course the entire pack will know by now that I'm busy playing bondage with a hot blonde."

"_Believe_," she corrected him instantly, ignoring the heat coiling in her abdomen at the mental image. "They will _believe_ you're busy playing bondage."

"Oh well, if the world ends tomorrow at least in their minds I won't go down as a…" he trailed off, his face turning as red as Embry's had moments ago. Alex gaped at him.

"Whoa, what? You're a…?" His meaningful glance at her was enough to answer that question. "_Why?_" He raised both eyebrows at her in confusion at her little outburst. "I mean… You could have anyone," she explained, her eyes lingering for a moment on his washboard abs.

Jacob's pained expression was enough to answer that, too. "Oh," was all she managed to say. He could have any girl except the one he really wanted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rub it in."

"Not your fault," he replied, looking out the window. "You were right last night. I should give up and move on. It's just so hard."

"The love that lasts the longest is the love that's never returned," Alex thought aloud. It was a quote from William Somerset Maugham that she'd read somewhere once. It had sounded true enough to be remembered.

Jacob snorted and swung his legs off the couch and dragged himself up into a sitting position, groaning from the pain.

Alex reached out and steadied him when he almost toppled. "Don't get up. I'll get whatever you need."

"Alright, a glass of water would be nice, but if you keep flashing me like that I'm going to need something I don't think you want to assist me with." Only now did she realize she was leaning forward a bit too far for the loosely wrapped material of the bathrobe and Jacob was getting a nice view down the front. Blushing furiously she let go of his shoulders, righted herself and pulled the robe closer around her.

"Glass of water," she murmured, getting up without looking at him, "coming right up." She hurried over to the kitchen, wishing the rooms were separated so she could hide from Jacob's view while she regained her composure. He was chuckling, but then hissed as that hurt him.

_Serves him right_, she thought a little smugly as she filled a glass with tap water and brought it back. He'd gotten a hold of the pile of her blood-stained clothes and was holding up her black-lace bra. "You like it?" she asked, smirking.

"Love it." Dropping it back onto the pile of her clothes he studied her again. "Thank you," he said, his expression growing more serious. "For probably saving my life."

"Anytime." With a little surprise Alex realized she really meant it. In the short time that they'd known each other he'd grown on her. She felt close to him in a way she couldn't remember ever having felt with someone else. She could _trust_ him. He made her feel safe and understood just by being in the same room and she loved the way he could lighten even her worst moods just by smiling.

She spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the signs of the previous night; throwing their bloody clothes in the washing machine, scrubbing the bloodstains off the floor, washing her leather jacket by hand until the water stopped turning red. She'd had to put some back into cleaning a stain out of the couch that the towels hadn't been able to prevent. Jacob kept trying to get up and help – at least until she'd threatened to drag him into his bedroom and lock him in. Alex didn't think a wooden door was enough to hold him for long, but the threat worked anyway as he fell back against the cushions and grumbled.

When she was finally done and had all the cleaning paraphernalia stored back where it belonged she dropped onto the couch like a wet rag. She nearly cried out in pain as her side brushed the corner of the armrest, but managed to stifle the cry down to a very audible intake of breath. That was enough to alert Jacob.

"You're hurt," he observed, moving closer to her.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"Bullshit." He grabbed the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. He'd lent it to her along with a pair of sweatpants from his pre-werewolf days. It was both way too big for her, but better than running around in nothing but a bathrobe.

"I'm fine," Alex repeated, trying to keep his hand from pulling up the shirt, but he was much stronger than her and his hand moved upwards as if there was no resistance whatsoever.

"Damn, Alex! You should have said something," he said, sounding upset. She knew what he was seeing; she'd inspected the damage when she'd changed into his clothes in the bathroom. There was an elongated bruise across her stomach, approximately the width of an arm. That was where the demon had hit her. The right half of her back was also covered in a huge black and blue mark, stretching from her hip to her shoulder.

"It's not so bad," she assured him. "Nothing's broken."

"Not so bad? Alex, you look like you've been hit by a truck." He was still angry. "You shouldn't have had to clean–"

"I volunteered, didn't I? Besides, it's more important that you're physically in shape. All I need is my brilliant mind." She tried to lighten the mood with a joke and it worked a little. The anger disappeared from Jacob's face and he sighed unhappily, taking another look at her hematomas before pulling the shirt down again.

It wasn't until noon that Billy came home. Charlie was wheeling him into the house and was rather surprised to see Alex there. Jacob had luckily managed to pull a shirt over his injuries so Charlie didn't see any of it.

"I guess you two have met," he said, looking a little suspicious.

"Oh yeah, a while ago, actually. Jake was just showing me his garage, that's why I'm here," Alex lied smoothly.

"Yeah, Alex could make an excellent mechanic with a little practice," Jacob joined in, smiling at Charlie innocently.

"Well, we might as well eat together then. We caught some fish," Billy announced happily.

* * *

Irving was sitting in his Porsche, parked at the side of the road. He knew he couldn't drive it around much. The cops would immediately notice it in a place like Forks, so he had to keep it hidden in the garage most days. But not today. Gill was already walking down the street towards him. There was no trace of shyness left in his corrupted mind. He took a drag from his cigarette and got out of the car, sauntering over to her. "Hi," he said confidently, stepping into her path. She looked at him in alarm, but then calmed down. Obviously she didn't think of him as dangerous looking. "You're Gill, right?"

"Gillian," she corrected him.

"I'm Irving," he introduced himself, pulling off his sunglasses.

"A pleasure," she said. If his mind had been clearer he would have been able to tell that her expression didn't fit to her words. Instead he triumphed in what he believed to be success.

"Look, I've overheard you talking to some of the other students, about how you were looking for that werewolf."

"You know what," she snapped at him, suddenly angry. "I don't need anybody else to make fun of me right now."

"No, no, no, no! I don't want to make fun of you. I believe you." He could see her eyes growing larger in surprise. "There are supernatural forces at work here."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh-huh." He took another drag from his cigarette. "I can prove it to you. You're the only person who'd believe me, Gillian."

"You know who killed Aaron? What proof do you have?"

"I'll answer all your questions, but, er…" he pointed to his Porsche, hoping she'd notice the great car, "I can't do it here. All the proof is back at my place. Come on, let's go." He rounded his car so he could get in. She hesitated. "Hey, that's cool," he said, getting into his car. "You don't wanna come, that's fine. You know I called the police, they didn't want to listen."

"No, no, it's okay, just give me a sec," she said, pulling out her cell phone. Flipping it open, she dialed and held it to her ear. After about ten seconds she began to speak. "Hey Alex, its Gill. Listen, I met this guy called Irving. He says he knows about Aaron's murder and the werewolf. I'm going to his place. I'll call you if I get anything." She hung up when she was done with her voice mail.

She got in the car. "All set?" Irving asked, grinning at her. She didn't answer, just looked around nervously. "You know, Gillian, I've been waiting for someone like you for a very long time. Somebody I could really talk to. Somebody who cared about the same things I do, like vintage computers and medieval fairs and–"

"You know what, Irving?" Her tone was rude and dismissive. Anger bubbled up inside him at being rejected. If she didn't cooperate he'd have to force her. Thankfully he'd come prepared. He'd soaked a rag with chloroform he'd taken from the hospital. "My friends are waiting. I have to make this quick, I need to–" He pressed the rag over her mouth and nose, stifling her scream. She struggled for only a few short moments, and then she slumped back in the car seat.

"I'm the only friend you're ever going to need, Gillian," he said, brushing his nose against her hair and inhaling her scent deeply.

* * *

With a sigh of relief Alex threw herself onto her bed. It was already five in the afternoon. Lunch with the Blacks had gone on forever and Charlie had only shown mercy when she'd nearly fallen asleep at the table. Jacob had excused himself two hours ago, probably to fill in the patrol he'd skipped that morning. She didn't get a chance to take another look at his wounds, but he had to know himself what he was capable of. She just hoped he did.

She grabbed her cell phone to check for messages and there was indeed one from Gillian. That surprised her, since the two of them hadn't been talking in quite a while. When she listened to the voice mail, her eyes grew larger and larger with horror, sleep forgotten. "Oh, Gill!" As a former New Yorker girl she should know better than to get into strangers' cars.

Irving. The name rang a bell and with apprehension she fished the list of people resident in the neighborhood that was centered in the pentagram out of the nightstand drawer. Scanning it she quickly found what she was looking for. Irving Keaton. "Oh shit!"

Quickly Alex dialed Jacob's number. It just kept ringing until the answering machine picked up. Billy had said he'd go over to the Clearwaters and Jacob was probably not home from patrol yet. "Jake, it's me. I've got our guy. His name is Irving Keaton. 34 Harding Street. I'm on my way there. Come as soon as you hear this." She hung up again and raced down the stairs. Charlie was just out in the backyard so she quickly ran out the front door and down the street before he'd notice her.

It was a fair distance to the address, but Alex was in good shape and her exercise was paying off. Her injuries, however, slowed her down and she was out of breath when she reached the house in question. She considered waiting for Jacob, but she didn't know how long he would still be on patrol. Gillian could be dead by the time he arrived and the Demon Lord set free.

Using an old hairpin she kept in her pocket at all times, she picked at the lock and it opened with a soft click. The inside of the house was completely silent. She didn't know where Irving lived. As quietly as possible she crept into the living room. It looked ordinary; slightly old-fashioned furniture and family photos littering every possible surface.

The only warning she got was a slight creaking of the floorboards before something hard made contact with her skull and she fell into darkness…


	10. Dying

**Hey guys, I'm back from my holidays. So here is the next chapter. I admit, I was slightly disappointed. I'm gone for a month and I only get four reviews? Seriously? Thanks to those who wrote, you made my day brighter. Anyway, have fun reading.**

**Chapter 10: Dying**

Alex had been conscious now for some time and had been lying quietly, eyes closed, waiting for the pounding at her temples to stop echoing between her ears. Time was of the essence, yes, but sudden movement would have her puking her guts out and she couldn't see where that would help. Better to wait, to gather information, and to move when she might actually have some effect.

Her feet were tied at the ankles. Her arms lashed together almost from wrists to elbows; the binding around her wrists fabric not rope. She'd been dumped on her side, knees drawn up, left cheek down on a hard, sticky surface – probably the floor. Someone had removed her jacket.

She could hear – or maybe feel – footsteps behind her and adenoidal breathing coming from the same direction. Irving. From the opposite direction, she could hear short sharp breaths. Gillian.

_She's alive. Thank God_. Alex suspected that Gillian was tied up as well.

The smell of burning charcoal, air freshener and candles, all mixed together with the residual stench of the demon was nauseating and she wondered how Irving could stand it.

"What is this?" Alex heard Gillian ask. She sounded scared.

"It's a ritual. To call up a demon. But not just any sort of demon. This time I'm calling a Demon Lord." Irving was obviously extremely pleased with himself. Alex wondered if she'd get anywhere if she tried to persuade him to stop, but she doubted there was any common sense left in him.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well," he almost seemed bored with answering the questions. "You know how it goes. I call up the demon, someone's gotta die…" Gillian sobbed loudly. "Oh, no, no, no, not you. Don't worry. The Demon Lord will make you mine." Gillian whimpered, clearly just as horrified at that idea as she was of dying. He laughed loudly at Gillian's fear.

Cold fingers traced a pattern up and down Alex's spine, and she fought to keep herself from flipping over so that the thing Irving Keaton had become was no longer at her exposed back. She'd never heard anyone laugh like that before. It sounded insane and downright inhuman.

"At first I thought I'd have to call a delivery guy." His voice was moving closer and Alex felt a pointed toe prodding her in the back. "But I've decided to use your friend instead."

"You're disgusting!"

"DON'T SAY THAT!"

Concussion or not, Alex opened her eyes in time to see Irving dart forward and slap Gillian across the face.

Rage fired up in Alex's chest. Releasing it now, however, when she was bound, would do neither her, nor Gillian, nor anyone else any good. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her head felt as though it were balanced precariously on the edge of the world and one false move would send it tumbling into infinity.

Fortunately Gillian was sitting directly across the small room, making it thankfully unnecessary for Alex to move her head. She studied the other girl for a few seconds, noting the red patch on one pale cheek. But she seemed fine otherwise. Alex was having difficulties focusing, but she thought she saw that Gillian was tied to a chair with nylon socks, stretched to their limit and impossible to break. Intrigued, in spite of everything, she gave her own bonds an experimental tug; they didn't respond like socks. As it seemed safer than moving her head, she slid her arms up along the floor until she could see them. Ties. Five of them and while it might have had more to do with her own weakness than Irving's skill, for she doubted he'd ever been a boy scout, he certainly seemed to know his knots.

Struggling did more damage to her than the ties. She kept at it anyway. If the world had to end, she'd be damned if she let it go down under the ridiculously high, cowboy booted heel of Irving Keaton, adding insult to injury.

* * *

Jacob was completely drained when he got home. When all this was over he'd need a vacation. He'd been careful that none of his pack members would see him shirtless. The fur had covered anything he hadn't wanted them to see as long as he was a wolf. The lesser cuts and abrasions he'd taken last night had healed, the greater were healing and would give him no trouble. The bruises he'd had were already gone again. His arm had taken the worst blow. It hurt and would, he suspected, continue to hurt for some time, but he could use the arm if he was careful. Rolling his shoulder muscles, he winced as one of the half-healed abrasions pulled. Injuries that had once taken weeks, or sometimes months, to heal now disappeared in days.

He saw the red light from the answering machine blink and pressed the play button. "_Jake, it's me. I've got our guy. His name is Irving Keaton. 34 Harding Street. I'm on my way there. Come as soon as you hear this._" He stared open mouthed at the machine. The message had come in a bit over an hour ago.

"Oh God, please no." He looked out the window. The sun was setting. The demon could be called once it was completely down. He barely had any time left.

* * *

Charlie was finished warming up dinner. Pleased with himself he went to the stairs and called up, "Alex! Dinner's ready!"

There was no answer.

He tried again with the same result. With a sigh he climbed up the stairs. Maybe she'd fallen asleep. She'd been awfully tired; had probably spent all night out and about.

He opened the door to her room. It was empty. A piece of paper was lying on her bed. A list of names. He recognized the list instantly. He'd given it to Jacob to help his investigation.

Everything suddenly became clear to Charlie. Alex had been helping Jacob. "'_Showed her the garage_' my ass!" But where was she now? What if she was in trouble?

* * *

Alex drifted up into consciousness thinking, _this has got to stop_. Every time she tried to move, every time she tried to raise her head, she drifted back down into the pit. Occasionally, the blackness claimed her when she was doing nothing more than lying quietly, trying to conserve her strength for another attempt at getting free. _I'm going to have to think of something else_. All the struggling had accomplished was to exacerbate her physical condition.

* * *

Jacob had nearly reached Forks when the abuse his body had taken the night before caught up with him and he had to slow down to something more closely approximating a human's pace. He'd hoped going by foot would be faster than by car and he was frustrated by the refusal of muscles to respond as they should.

* * *

Irving was talking to an ancient-looking, leather-bound book and had been for some time. His low mumble had become a constant background noise as Alex drifted in and out of consciousness. Occasionally she heard words, mostly having to do with how the world would now treat Irving the way he deserved. Alex was all for that.

He was holding a glass of water to Gillian, who turned her head away in disgust.

"Drink," he commanded and she flinched.

"What about Alex?" Gillian asked.

"She doesn't matter, she'll be dead soon anyway."

Alex was afraid that he was probably right. She had no reserves left to call on and every time she fought her way up out of the blackness, the world seemed a little further away.

* * *

Irving looked around the apartment, exceedingly pleased with himself. Soon all those people who thought him a nobody, a nothing, would pay. He reached out one hand to stroke the book. The book said so.

It was sunset. Time to start painting the pentagram. It was much more complicated than the form he usually used and he wanted to get it right.

This was going to be the greatest night of his life.

"… and one final join here." Irving straightened up and beamed proudly down at the apartment floor. The white outline of the pentagram had almost been obscured by the red and yellow symbols surrounding it. He caressed the open page of the grimoire, tracing with his fingertips the diagram he'd just finished reproducing. "Soon," he told it. "Soon."

The five candles Irving placed around the pentagram were new. Red and yellow spirals had been much easier to find than black candles of any description. He kept the grimoire with him, tucked under an arm when he needed his hands free, clutched close to his chest when he didn't. He had begun to feel incomplete without it, as if it had become a part of him, even taking it to the store that afternoon when he bought the new hibachi. Holding it, he knew that his wildest dreams were about to come true.

The throbbing in his head had become louder, wilder, and more compelling. Its tone varied with his actions… or possibly his actions varied with the tones – Irving was no longer entirely sure.

As he pulled the tiny barbecue out of its box and set it up by the window, he checked to see if his audience was impressed. The blonde had closed her eyes again, but she was still breathing and that was really all that counted. He'd be pissed if she died before he killed her, because then he'd have to use Gillian and he had other plans for her. Gillian didn't look impressed either, but she looked scared and that would do for now.

"You're not laughing." He prodded Gillian in the back with the corner of the grimoire, noting with pleasure the way she flinched away from its touch, then squatted to set up the three charcoal briquettes.

"There's nothing to laugh at."

_Damn right there isn't_, he thought.

"Look, this has gone far enough. Alex needs a doctor," Gillian pleaded. "Please, Irving, you let us go and we'll forget we ever saw you."

"Let you go?" It was Irving's turn to laugh. He didn't think the Demon Lord could give him anything he'd enjoy so much. He laughed at her the way everyone, all his life, had laughed at him. It grew and grew and she shrank back under the weight of it. He felt it echo in the grimoire, felt his body begin to reverberate with the sound, felt it wrap in and around the pulsing in his head.

"Irving!" It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to cut the laughter off. His brows drawn down in a deep V, Irving scowled at the blonde on the floor. He was glad she was going to die. She'd chased the laughter away. Still scowling, he lit the candles and flicked off the overhead light. Not even Gillian's quick intake of breath at the sudden twilight was enough to put him in a better mood. Not until he got the briquettes burning and the air in the room grew blue with the smoke from a handful of frankincense, did his expression lighten.

* * *

When Alex next opened her eyes she came closer to panic than she had at any time that night.

_When did it get so dark?_

She could see five flickering points of light. The rest of the room, Gillian, Irving – gone. And the air… it smelled strange , heavy, it hurt to breathe.

_Dear God, am I dying?_

She tried to move, to fight, to live. Her arms and legs were still bound. That reassured her, slowed her heart and slowed her breathing. If she was tied, she wasn't dead. Not yet.

The lights were candles, could be nothing else, and the air reeked of incense. It must have begun.

She didn't see Irving approach, didn't realize he was there until he began to wrestle with her arms and pushed the ties back to expose her left wrist. She felt the cold edge of a blade against her skin and the pain as it opened a vein. And then another. Not the safe horizontal cuts, but vertical cuts that left her wrist awash in dark liquid and a warm puddle filling the hollow of her palm.

"You have to stay alive through the invocation," Irving told her, pulling her arms away from her body, making them part of the symbols surrounding the pentagram. "So I'm only going to do one wrist. Don't die too fast." She heard the knife clutter to the floor behind her, and his footsteps move away.

_Fucking right I won't…_ The anger tired her so she let it go. Essentials only now, never say die. Especially not when die meant bleeding to death on a dirty floor and delivering the world into Armageddon. Sagged over onto her left side, her heart could be no more than four inches off the floor. By concentrating everything she had remaining on her right arm, she managed to get it under her left, elevating the bleeding wrist as high as possible. Maybe not four inches, but it would help to retard the flow.

_Pressure will be low… I could hold on for… hours._

It might only be a matter of time, but as much as possible she'd make it her time, not his.

Through her ear pressed against the floor by the weight of her head, all she could hear was soft rhythmic hissing, like the sound of the ocean in a shell. She lay listening to that, ignoring the chanting rising around her.

* * *

Jacob could have identified the specific building even without the address. The power surrounding it, the expectation of evil, caused every hair on his body to rise. It took a strong jolt of the doorknob and the lock inside broke.

* * *

Irving spat the last discordant word into the air and let his left hand fall down to the open grimoire balanced on his right. His throat hurt, his eyes stung, and he was trembling with excitement, waiting for the telltale shimmer of air that would signify his demon was arriving.

It never came.

One second the pentagram was empty and the throbbing beat out a glorious rhythm inside his head. A second later, with no warning, it was full, and only echoes remained in the silence.

Irving cried out and fell to his knees, the grimoire forgotten as he raised both hands to cover his face.

Gillian whimpered and sagged against her bonds, consciousness fleeing what it couldn't accept.

* * *

Alex attempted to breathe shallowly through her teeth, glad for the first time that she couldn't really see. Every fear she'd ever held, every nightmare, every terror from childhood to yesterday came with the ill-defined shape in the pentagram. She clamped her teeth down on the urge to wail and used her physical condition – the pain, the weakness – to insulate her from the Demon Lord. _I hurt too much now to be hurt any further_.

The thing in the pentagram seemed amused by that.

Colors ran together in ways that colors could not, creating shades that seared the heart and shades that froze the soul, and they built a creature with black curls and blue eyes and very, very white teeth. Slender and hermaphroditic, it laid no claim to either sex while claiming both of them.

"Enough," said the Demon Lord, and the terror damped to a bearable level. It checked the boundaries of its prison and then the lives around it. Gillian it ignored, but by Alex's side of the pentagram it squatted and smiled approvingly at the patterns of blood on the floor.

"So you are the life that opens the way for my power." It smiled and Alex gave thanks that she could see only a shadowy outline of the expression. "But you're not being very cooperative, are you?"

Only the non-responsiveness of her muscles gave her time to fight the compulsion that she lower her bleeding wrist back to the floor. A sudden shock of recognition lent her strength. "I… know you." Not the face, not the creature specifically, but the essence, oh, the essence she knew.

"I know you, too." Something writhed for a second in the Demon Lord's eyes. "And this time, I've won. It's over, Alexandra."

She really hated her full name. "Not till… fat lady sings."

"A joke? In your position? I think that your strength might be better spent pleading for mercy." It stood and dusted its hands against its thighs. "A pity I can't allow you to live. I'd get such pleasure from your reactions to my plans."

All Alex wanted at that moment was enough saliva left to spit.

It turned to Irving, still cowering by the hibachi. "Stand!"

Scooping up the grimoire, holding the book like a talisman, Irving rose shakily to his feet.

"Release me!"

Irving's lower lip went out and his expression grew decidedly mulish. "No. I called you. I am the master."

The Demon Lord's laughter busted the single window out.

As though there were strings attached to his shoulders and the Demon Lord was the puppeteer, Irving began to jerk toward the pentagram. "No," he whined. "I am the master."

_He's fighting_, Alex realized. She would have expected his will to be swept aside like so many matchsticks. Conceit and self-interest made a stronger defense than she'd thought.

* * *

Once in the house, Jacob only had to follow the overwhelming stench of demon and fresh blood. It led him down a flight of stairs into the basement, drawing him to the door he needed. The door was locked.

The metal held. The wood of the doorjamb splintered and gave.

* * *

Alex heard the noise as though from a great distance away. She recognized it, understood its significance, but just couldn't seem to care much.

The Demon Lord heard the noise as well but ignored it. It kept its attention on Irving who stood inches from the edge of the pentagram, swearing and shaking and losing the battle.

* * *

Grabbing the first thing he could get his hands on, Jacob's fist closed around a mushroom-shaped air freshener and he threw it at the creature. Though it had its back to him the demon sidestepped easily, the air freshener shattering against the opposite wall.

The Demon Lord snarled and turned, its patina of humanity slipping as it moved. When it saw Jacob, its features settled and it smiled. "Are you the champion here, shape-shifter? Have you come to save the mortal world from my domination?"

Jacob felt it stroke at his mind and swatted the touch away, his own snarl barely less demonic as he answered.

"Go back to the hole you've crawled out of! This world is not yours!"

"And you believe you can stop me?" The Demon Lord looked at Jacob with great amusement. A shiver ran down Jacob's back. His heart was racing, pumping adrenaline through his body. Every fiber in him told Jacob to run, to flee. But he held his ground.

"I will not allow you to destroy this world without a fight." He didn't dare take his eyes from the Demon Lord's to look for Alex although he knew it was her blood scent that filled the room.

"Fight all you wish." It bowed graciously. "You will lose."

* * *

"NO!" Irving suddenly stood, splay legged, grimoire tucked under his arm, clutching a rifle with enough force to turn his fingers white. "I called you! I AM THE MASTER! YOU WILL NOT IGNORE ME! YOU WON'T! YOU WON'T! YOU WON'T!"

The bullets sprayed across the pentagram, almost cutting the Demon Lord in half. Howling with rage, it lost control of its form, becoming again the maelstrom of darkness it had been at the beginning.

_Firearm violation_, Alex thought fuzzily, as the slugs tore up the cabinets of the little kitchenette behind her. _AK-47_, she noted. No doubt it had been one of the things the minor demon had stolen for Irving, she thought she dimly remembered reading a report about a missing weapon.

The noise startled Gillian into full consciousness. With panicked strength she began to fight against the bonds, throwing herself violently from side to side, bouncing the chair legs inches off the floor at a time.

Like night falling in on itself, the Demon Lord reformed and the temperature in the apartment plunged. It smiled, showing great curved teeth it hadn't had before. Once again, Irving began jerking toward it.

The lights flickered on, throwing the scene into sharp relief, and a voice yelled, "Freeze! Police!"

The first instant of frozen expressions was almost funny, then Jacob raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden glare, the Demon Lord spun about to face a new adversary, and Irving raced toward the door, screaming, "No, it's mine! You can't stop me! It's mine!"

Gillian's leg came free of the socks at last. As Irving passed, she kicked out.

He fought for balance, arms flailing. The old book he'd kept close at all times dropped to the floor. A second later, Irving fell into the pentagram.

Then Irving wasn't anymore, but his scream lingered for a heartbeat or two.

* * *

Charlie stood at the light switch, his .45 in one hand, the other, under no conscious volition, making the sign of the cross. "What the hell is going on in here?"

The Demon Lord turned to face him. "But that's it exactly, Chief. _Hell_ is going on in here."

This was worse than anything Charlie could have imagined. He hadn't seen the punk with the gun disappear into thin air. He didn't see the thing standing in the middle of the room smiling.

But he had. And he did.

Then he caught sight of Alex and all the strangeness became of secondary importance.

"Who did this?" he demanded, moving over to her side and dropping to one knee. "What is going on in here?" The question came out sounding more than a bit desperate the second time around. While he felt her throat for a pulse, he kept the Demon Lord covered – the direction of the threat obvious after what he'd seen as he came in.

"Pretty much exactly what it looks like," Jacob told him. "That is a Demon Lord. It just destroyed the person who called it and we're in a great deal of trouble."

"Trouble?" Charlie asked, not bothering at the moment with whether he believed all this or not.

"Yes," said the Demon Lord, and stepped out of the pentagram. It effortlessly pulled the gun from Charlie's hand and tossed it out the window.

Charlie watched it go, there being nothing else he could do, then with lips a thin, pale line he bent over Alex, ignoring the cold sweat that beaded his entire body, ignoring the terror that held his heart in an icy fist, ignoring everything but the one thing he could change. Fighting the knots out of the ties, he bound up her wrist with the first one he got free.

* * *

"It won't do any good," The Demon Lord observed. With all attention focused on Alex, it sidled sideways, whirled around, and dove for the grimoire. Jacob had recognized the book from Carlisle's descriptions. It was the only thing that could have shown a human like Irving how to call demons.

Jacob got to it first, scooped up the book, and backed away with it. The feel of it was uncomfortable. It was warm, like he was touching something obscenely alive and there was something profoundly evil about it. It wasn't just a book, he noted. And was the ancient, faded cover really made of skin like Carlisle had said? Human skin? He shivered in disgust.

To his surprise, the Demon Lord snarled but let him go. "You have no power," Jacob realized. "You're in this world without power."

"The invocation is not finished," the Demon Lord admitted, its eyes still on the book, "until the girl dies."

"Then the invocation will never be finished." Brute strength forced the binding off her legs and Charlie threw the ties across the room with unnecessary force. Jacob could see the fear in the Police Chief's eyes. Fear that he was wrong.

"It will be finished very soon," the Demon Lord pointed out. "She's dying." The hole in Jacob's chest that had been there since Bella had left tore open even wider. Alex couldn't die. He'd only just met her and grown close to her. It couldn't end like this. He took a quick glance at her pale face and his heart ached as he realized that the Demon Lord was right.

"No she isn't," Charlie growled, easing Alex's limp body onto her back.

* * *

_Yes, I am_. Alex wished she could feel the hand cupping her face, but she hadn't been able to feel anything for some time. Her eyes itched, but she didn't have the strength to blink. She wished it wasn't happening this way. But she'd given it her best shot. Time to rest.

Then the Demon Lord raised its head and looked directly at her, its expression gloating and openly triumphant.

When she died, it won.

_The hell it wins_. She grabbed onto what life she had left and shook it, hard. _I am not going to die. I am not going to die!_

"I am… not… going to die…"

"That's what I said." Charlie didn't bother to smile. Neither of them would have believed it. "Listen."

Through the glassless window, up to the street, she could hear sirens growing closer.

"Cavalry?" she asked.

Charlie nodded. "I called in an emergency when I reached the building – the place felt like it was under siege. There'll be an ambulance with them. I don't care how much blood you've lost they can replace it."

"Concussed, too…"

"Your head's hard enough to take it. You're not going to die." He half turned to face the Demon Lord, looking at it with conviction.

It smiled unpleasantly. "All mortals die in time. I will, of course, try to make it sooner than later."

"Over my dead body," Charlie snarled.

"No need." Jacob shook his head. "It can't kill her or it would have the moment it left the pentagram. Her death is tied to the invocation and it can't affect the invocation. All it can do is wait.

"If you stay," he told it, moving closer, "you'll be fighting every moment. We can't destroy you, but without all your power you'll have no easy time of it."

The Demon Lord watched him move, eyes narrowed.

_No_, Alex realized, _it isn't watching Jake, it's watching the book_.

"So what do you suggest?" it scoffed. "That I surrender? Time is all I need, and time I have in abundance."

Alex pushed at Charlie's arm, moving him out of his protective position. "A deal… You want… the book." If only her tongue wasn't so damned thick. "Go… Break the invocation… it's yours."

"In time, I will take the grimoire. You have no idea of how to truly use the knowledge it contains." It made no effort to hide its desire as it stared at the book of demonic lore, the book filled with rituals, magic and demonic names – and names were power in their world. "There is nothing in your deal for me."

"Power freely given has more strength than that taken by force." Gillian went deep red when everyone turned to stare at her. "Well, it does. Everyone knows it."

"And power freely given is not a power often seen where you come from," Jacob added, nodding slowly. Gillian had brought up an important point. "It could be the makings of a major coup."

"The pentagram… written on the… city." The demonkind had proven they were not without ambition.

"Upstart, grasping." The Demon Lord ground out a number of other words in a language that sounded like a cat fight and its form began to slip again.

"Why wait for this world when you can have another now?" Jacob prodded. "You want the grimoire. With it you can control others of your kind. Defeat your enemies…"

"Yessss."

"We give it to you freely if in exchange you break the invocation and return to where you came from. The one that called you is gone. Nothing holds you here. Why wait when you can rule?"

With an effort the Demon Lord maintained its shape, holding out hands that were no longer quite hands. "Give it to me. I will make your bargain."

"Swear it on your name," Jacob ordered.

"I ssso sssswear."

"And that you'll never use the book against humankind," Gillian added in a rush, before Jacob could move.

"It holdsss knowledge only to be usssed againssst demonkind."

Her lower lip went out. "Swear it anyway. On your name."

"I ssswear. I ssswear."

Jacob took a step forward and placed the book on what remained of the Demon Lord's hands. Grimoire and Demon Lord disappeared.

Alex started to giggle.

Charlie looked down at her and frowned. "What?"

"I was just… wondering… what you're going to… put in… you report."

* * *

**Okay, the Demon Lord is finished. You wanna know what happens next? Review. I hate giving ultimatums, but you guys really don't give me a choice here. I love writing and I'm writing fanfictions to practice until I get an idea that I might even be able to publish. I upload my stories for you guys. I want to learn from this, so critical reviews are a huge help. What do you like? What should I change? Just give me something.**

**I'm also still open for suggestions about short stories in Alex and Jacob's future lives together. I've had a few, but I'd like some more.**

**So, I would like at least 7 reviews before I upload the next chapter. Give me something I can work with. Please.**


	11. Home

**Chapter 11: Home**

Alex smiled broadly as the door to her hospital room slid open and Jacob came in. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied, sitting down in the chair that Charlie had occupied most of the morning. He shook his head at heavy purple circles under Alex's eyes and clicked his tongue at the IV drip. "You look like shit."

"Actually I'm feeling much better," Alex said, putting her hand on the one he'd put on her stomach. "Yesterday I _felt_ like shit. And speaking of yesterday, where were you?"

"Getting what was coming my way," he said, frowning. "I informed the other wolves of what happened. Leah nearly tore my head off for not mentioning anything sooner. They all send their best wishes, by the way."

She chuckled. It was sweet how much they seemed to care about someone they didn't even know. "So I guess you had to confess that you didn't play bondage."

"Are you kidding? They still believe that," he said, waving it off with a smirk.

"Jake!" she said, trying to sound outraged in spite of her laughing.

"There was actually something I wanted to ask you…" he trailed off, looking as if he wasn't certain he should go through with whatever it was he wanted to ask.

"What is it?"

"That night when we fought that minor demon… you told me to move on and that you understand how I feel…"

"Oh that." Her stomach clenched slightly. She inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly. "I had been talking about one of my boyfriends. Lewis. He… wasn't my first boyfriend, but he was the first I…" Jacob nodded, showing he understood what she meant. "He was seventeen, I was fifteen and I didn't actually want to do it yet. We'd only been dating for two months. But I was so in love with him that I would have probably jumped off a building if he'd wanted me to." She smiled sadly at the memory of how naïve she'd been.

"The day after I gave in to his demand, I found out he was also seeing my best friend, Jennifer. We decided we would both break up with him. I did. She didn't. She decided that he was more important than our friendship. So, yeah, I know what it's like to lose your best friend and the one you love at the same time, even if it came in a double package for you and mine were two separate people." Jacob had remained silent throughout her story, looking at her with a sympathetic expression.

"How did you get over it?"

"Honestly? Sometimes I'm not sure I ever have. Lewis was fairly easy to get over in time. Losing my best friend was the worst part. Still is, actually. Something like that sticks."

"Like a bad earworm," Jacob said jokingly, instantly lighting the mood again.

"I guess you could say that," she giggled. "What I mean is that things like that leave scarring, they never go away entirely, but it gets better after a while. Distractions might be good for a while, but in the long run you have to confront it."

"I don't think I'm at the confronting part yet," Jacob admitted.

"Which was worse? That she chose Edward or that she chose to become… one of them?"

"The second, I think," he answered. "I wanted her to be happy, even if it killed me seeing her with someone else, but I needed her to be… alive." Alex could see the betrayal in his eyes as he thought back to the decision Bella had made. One thing she was sure of; he'd loved her deeply. Still did.

She pressed deeper into the pillow, sighing heavily. The pain medication was taking care of most of her headache, but there was still a dull throbbing. They'd offered her some pills for sleeping better as well, but she'd declined. The result of that was that she lay awake at night, every noise sounding like a threat from hell. When she did sleep she had nightmares filled with pentagrams and the cold, merciless, blue eyes of the Demon Lord.

"The official story is out," Jacob suddenly said, tearing her from her dark thoughts.

"So what is it?"

"The truth." She raised an eyebrow. "Well, parts of it," he amended.

"And Irving?"

"Got away while we tried to keep you alive. There's a country wide APB out on him. I suppose it's a waste of time, but at least the killings have stopped and I figure Irving got what he deserved."

Alex wasn't sure that she agreed so she kept silent. At least, in a way, Irving was at last getting the recognition he'd been craving.

After four days in the hospital Alex was finally allowed to go home. She still needed a lot of rest to finish recovering from the serious concussion and Charlie was taking free time whenever he could, Sue, Seth, Leah or Jacob keeping her company when he couldn't. She felt extremely out of place with all the caring attention she was getting.

On Saturday evening Jacob loaded her into his car and they drove to La Push to attend the bonfire. Gillian was there, too. Jacob had decided, after all that had happened, that it would be only fair to Gillian that she knew the whole truth. She was beaming radiantly as she looked around the circle at all the werewolves. This was her dream come true.

Billy told them the legends of the Spirit Warriors, Taha Aki and the Third Wife. Gillian had been on the edge of her seat through it all, glued to Billy's every word. Alex had sat through it quietly, though some questions arose in her mind, particularly concerning the relationship between Taha Aki and the Third Wife. Later Jacob explained imprinting to her. She supposed it was nice to know if you truly belonged together, but at the same time she thought it sounded forced, an intervention in free will. But the imprinted couples didn't seem to mind.

It wasn't until some of the boys – she thought their names were Paul, Jared and Quil – began lacing their conversation with innuendoes at Alex's expense that she realized Jacob really hadn't corrected their assumption that they'd slept together. She threw him a dirty glare and he had the decency to look ashamed. In spite of that she kept the truth to herself, deciding she'd get back at Jacob in some other way.

As it grew later Jacob grabbed Alex by the hand and pulled her to her feet, guiding her away from the bonfire, down along the beach. The boys wolf-whistled immaturely. From the corner of her eye she saw Jacob turning to look over his shoulder and wink at them. She stepped on his foot for that.

"Not funny," she said, but the grin on her face belied her words. "I thought you guys can read each other's minds. How come they still think we slept together?"

"I have a very vivid imagination," Jacob answered, grinning cheekily, ducking away from her swinging fist. "You don't wanna do that. Bella broke her hand once punching me in the face."

"I'm not Bella," Alex replied.

"No, you're not," he said with a smile and wrapped an arm around her carefully. The bruising she'd gotten from the minor demon had turned a brownish-yellow and didn't hurt that badly anymore. He still handled her with kid gloves.

She couldn't help but smile happily at his closeness. She couldn't believe she'd been in Forks only three weeks. So much had happened in that short time span. Her life in Detroit seemed an eternity ago. She also couldn't explain how she could possibly feel so incredibly close to Jacob. They'd known each other for only two weeks now and just prior to that she'd believed him to be a cold-blooded killer. Now being with him felt completely natural.

"God I'm going to miss this when I have to go back," Alex said with a sigh and Jacob stiffened slightly at her side.

"You don't have to," he muttered quietly, the soft crashing of the waves on the beach nearly drowning out his words. He was right. Charlie, for whatever reason, had offered to apply for a permanent legal guardianship. She'd been very tempted to agree. Alex felt good here in Forks, taken care of and even loved.

"I can't." She sighed again. "I can't do that to my mother." Absentmindedly she rubbed over the bandage around her left wrist. The stitches wouldn't be taken out until Wednesday and they started to bug her.

Jacob took a heavy breath, hugging her closer to his furnace of a body, nicely cancelling out the cold from the sea wind blowing around them. "Then I guess we just have to make the best of the time given to us."

He made good on that, too. The remaining month had been one of the best in Alex's life. It didn't matter if she spent her evenings watching football with Jacob, Charlie and Billy or if he took her to meetings with his brothers – and sister. It was always fun and sometimes Gillian would join them – not so much when they watched sports or when they went hiking, because she didn't like that, but when they made trips up to Port Angeles or met up with the packs at the beach.

They were rarely alone, which made the few times when Alex had Jacob to herself all the more memorable, even if all they did was sit on the couch and watched a movie or _American Idol_. He liked that for some reason. Alex didn't much like reality TV shows of any sort, but she didn't mind watching with him.

"I can't believe I have to go already," Alex said, looking at Charlie and Jacob. They'd brought her to the airport. She'd said goodbye to everyone else the previous day and it had been a lot harder than she'd expected. Gillian, the wolves, Emily, Kim, Sue, Billy… they'd all grown on her so much.

"You call me if you change your mind," Charlie said, hugging her briefly. He meant the guardianship. Knowing he was willing to keep her here, give her a chance at a new life, was making it so much harder to turn her back on it.

"I wish I had that choice," she said quietly. He let her go and she turned to Jacob, her heart growing unbearably heavy. "Jake."

Before she could say anything else he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes. "Call me when you land, okay?" He'd buried his face in her curls, his words muffled.

"I will." She couldn't keep the tears back anymore and they spilled freely over her cheeks. It was very likely that she would never see him again. Alex wouldn't be able to afford the flight even if she took up another job. "If you ever end up in Detroit, let me know."

He let go of her, smiling sadly. It was just as improbable that he'd come to Detroit as Alex coming back here. "I will," he said anyway, lifting a hand to wipe at her tears. "Stay safe."

"You too." She had to get going or she wouldn't be able to anymore. With one final goodbye she turned and hurried away.

* * *

Jacob watched her disappear in the crowd with a heavy heart. He knew he wouldn't see her again. Just like he wasn't going to see Bella again.

The last two months had been reviving in a way. He'd always known that he'd had a good effect on Bella when Edward had left her, but he'd never really understood it. Now he did. With Alex around the loss he'd experienced hadn't hurt so much. He'd been able to laugh again and do the things he used to before they'd become memories of his times with Bella; like going into his garage and work on the Rabbit or the Harley while talking to Alex.

She'd become a part of his life. Ironically that had been exactly what he'd been afraid of when they'd first teamed up. He'd been afraid of falling in love with someone who'd just leave him again. He hadn't. He wasn't ready for that yet. But he had found an amazing friend in her. Thanks to Alex he felt like he had a chance at a halfway normal life again – or as close to normal as it could be as a werewolf.

"Come on," Charlie put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go." Tearing his eyes away from the place where she'd vanished, Jacob turned and followed Charlie back to the parking lot.

No, it didn't have to be the last time. He would take her advice. When he was ready he would find Bella and confront her, rid himself once and for all of her hold on him. And just like Bella, he could go find Alex. And when he did he would bring her home…

_The End_

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag  
Drifting throught the wind  
Wanting to start again

Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin  
Like a house of cards  
One blow from caving in

Do you ever feel already buried deep  
Six feet under scream  
But no one seems to hear a thing

Do you know that there's still a chance for you  
Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light  
And let it shine  
Just own the night  
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework  
Come on show 'em what you're worth  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
As you shoot across the sky

Baby you're a firework  
Come on let your colors burst  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down

You don't have to feel like a waste of space  
You're original, cannot be replaced  
If you only knew what the future holds  
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe your reason why all the doors are closed  
So you can open one that leads you to the perfect road

Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow  
And when it's time, you'll know

You just gotta ignite the light  
And let it shine  
Just own the night  
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework  
Come on show 'em what you're worth  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
As you shoot across the sky

Baby you're a firework  
Come on let your colors burst  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down

Boom, boom, boom  
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon  
It's always been inside of you, you, you  
And now it's time to let it through

Cause baby you're a firework  
Come on show 'em what your worth  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
As you shoot across the sky

You're a firework  
Come on let your colors burst  
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
You're gonna leave 'em goin "Oh, oh, oh!"

Boom, boom, boom  
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon  
Boom, boom, boom  
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

"Firework" – Katy Perry

* * *

**Okay, so obviously no happy ending, no happily ever after. You'll all be thinking now, "_hell, she can't leave it like that_" and, while technically I could, I'm not going to. The sequel is already written and is called _Blood Bonds_.**

**Here's the short summary: **After an incident Alex finally decides to let Charlie become her legal guardian. But a vengeful ghost is haunting and murdering the people responsible for his death. And one of Alex's friends is on the ghost's hit list.

**Sound good?**

**Not convinced yet? Here's an extract from what's coming your way (from Chapter 09):**

Together they hailed a cab and drove over to the Greenes' place. Chenille was the one to open the door, no doubt eager to finally meet the infamous Jacob Black. She'd stared at him open-mouthed for a full five minutes, standing in the doorframe, before Alex had stepped on her foot to snap her out of it.

Once the introductions had been made, Chenille had dragged Alex out of the dining room and into the adjoining living room. "Oh my God, please tell me he has a brother, I'll totally pack my bags and move to Forks with you," she said, giggling quietly. Out of the corner of her eye Alex could see Jacob grinning, his chest swelling slightly, perfectly able to hear every word.

"I've seen better," Alex lied to Chenille, watching gleefully as Jacob deflated again, shooting her a glare.

"Hell, if you don't want him, I'll take him," Chenille said, throwing an admiring glance into the kitchen. "Please tell me you've at least slept with him." Jacob had just taken a sip from the champagne Monica had offered him and swallowed it the wrong way, shocked by Chenille's words. Alex had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as he started coughing violently and Charlie had to clap him on the back.

"No, Chenille, we haven't slept with each other," Alex said, trying to sound annoyed rather than amused.

"So this is serious," Chenille whispered. Alex suddenly felt uncomfortable. Even with her whispering she was certain Jacob could still hear her. He definitely had his ears cocked in their direction.

"I don't know what you mean," Alex lied. She knew what Chenille was trying to get at, but it was ridiculous. There was nothing going on between Alex and Jacob. Then why did she feel like Chenille was about to blurt some secret out?

**Still not convinced? Well, then I can't help you. **

**Anyway, Blood Bonds will begin uploading when I have at least _five reviews_ on this chapter, preferably more. And when I say 'preferably more' I really do mean '_preferably more_'. It's okay to go past minimum limits, they're _minimum_.**

**Okay, enough on my side for now. I'm looking forward to seeing you all again soon with Blood Bonds. Au revoir! Sayonara! Auf Wiedersehen! Goodbye!**


End file.
